


smell you later

by justkeeponwriting



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anosmia, Frottage, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 08:57:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18825397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justkeeponwriting/pseuds/justkeeponwriting
Summary: Starting his second year of college, Castiel is tired of being alone, and makes a conscious attempt at making friends. It's just as hard as he thought it would be. Although, almost all of his hardships seem to be related to one Dean Winchester.Or, wherein Dean keeps asking Castiel out, and Castiel assumes it’s just a joke.





	1. come over here

**Author's Note:**

> Well! For the last time, here we go. I wasn't even going to sign up for this fest, but when I got this idea at the last minute, I couldn't not use it. Hope this is good enough for the spirit of Tropefest. Thank you for organizing yet another lovely challenge, mods muse and jojo!
> 
> I can't thank my artist [deancebra](https://deancebra-art.tumblr.com/post/184896335723/for-my-second-tropefest-this-year-i-got-the) enough for making these beautiful pieces, as well as being very patient with my edits. Also huge thank you to my betas [procasdeanating](https://procasdeanating.tumblr.com) and [nihonlove](https://nihonlove.tumblr.com), you guys rock.
> 
> Warnings for occasional accidental misgendering, for both Dean and Cas. If you want to know their designations in advance, highlight to see spoilery warnings down below:
> 
>  
> 
>   
> About A/B/O roles: Castiel is misgendered as Beta and Omega, though he is an Alpha. Dean is misgendered as Alpha, although he identifies as Omega, and presented as Delta. His designation is discussed in the story.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Edit:** Sorry if you managed to see this fic in the draft mode, or missing two chapters -- my butter fingers hit publish a little too early, and ao3 wouldn't let me get back to editing this for a while. Hopefully everything is in order now!

_Cover:_  


 

Castiel’s first year of college was fairly uneventful. He went to classes, ignored his roommate who was more interested in smoking weed than discussing…anything, actually, ranging from whatever was Castiel’s uncomfortably loud soundtrack of the week to the weird times they both stumbled back into the dorm room. (Castiel’s reasons for stumbling back so late were very dry compared to the probable adventures his roommate had; usually, Castiel was simply caught up in studying in the library, or his Judo practice ran late.) In between all the studying and calls home to comfort his nervous wreck of a father trying to come to grips with the fact that his little boy didn’t need his dad to hold his hand anymore, Castiel had managed to skip something obvious.

Starting the second year, he still didn’t have any friends. He had people he shared classes with and sometimes studied together with, or shared notes with, but the most titillating conversations he’d had so far were centered around topics such as, “Is your handwriting really this awful, or were you having a seizure?” and “Professor Moseley was kidding about that twenty-page essay, right? She _did_ wink when she talked about it, right?” Even the Judo group he regularly attended seemed to shy away from him – probably because he was the only brown belt in the area, and nobody could offer him any challenge in matches.

It was a little disheartening, to say the least. Castiel knew he could be off-putting and strange, he’d heard that often enough to believe it, but he didn’t think he was _completely_ disgusting.

So, when his second year started (thankfully without the weed-smelling roommate, as his sobbing wreck of a father had insisted Castiel rent an apartment), Castiel tried to consciously put more effort into befriending people. Though it was hard to tell who actually wanted to talk to him outside of classes and who was content just swapping notes and borrowing pens, at least Castiel tried to make a more lasting impression on people.

Sometimes, though, that impression wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

Castiel had been having a relatively boring but nice conversation with a girl from his class in the library, when a well-built blond boy approached them with a suspicious sneer on his face. Castiel had seen many of his type before – from his build, the casual, sporty type of clothes he was wearing and the way he tried to make himself look bigger than he was (although he _was_ fairly big already), Castiel could surmise that he was another sports grant kid, and an overly competitive Alpha. And when the boy firmly planted himself between Castiel and the girl, putting his hand on her waist for good measure, Castiel just barely resisted a sigh. The boy’s posturing couldn’t have been more obvious.

“You trying to snatch my girl?” the boy said, pulling the girl to his side.

Castiel had promised himself that this year, he would strive to be more social, but since this was the _third_ football playing, posturing Alpha mistaking his intentions, he had to pause and reconsider if trying to make friends really was worth all the hassle. Maybe he should just move to New Zealand and herd sheep alone for the rest of his days.

“If you count a conversation about textbooks on human anatomy as such, then yes,” Castiel said, dryly. The girl – Andrea, a small brunette – was rolling her eyes, but her lips still curled up into a smile, as if she secretly liked seeing her boyfriend protect her.

“Stop posturing, Benny,” Andrea said. “He’s just in my Bio class.”

“Hm.” Benny didn’t release his hold on Andrea, but at least seemed to relax a tiny bit. “Is that so?”

Castiel wasn’t bothered by the veiled threat. He’d heard worse, usually openly violent threats, and besides, being a brown belt in Judo, he could’ve easily taken down any hothead too keen on defending their “delicate partner’s honor.” But he _was_ bothered that his attempts at being friendly were misunderstood yet again. Because every failure at making friends cruelly reminded Castiel of one invisible detail that constantly affected every aspect of his life, even if he wished to forget about it.

The problem in a nutshell was that Castiel was anosmic.

Due to a rare genetic disorder, he’d never had the sense of smell. None of his siblings, parents or even cousins shared his anosmia, but Castiel had apparently won the dark genetic lottery. Most of his life, he hadn’t even realized that there would be consequences for not smelling things, and had just assumed that everyone was the same and got their sense of smell when they hit puberty. After all, in childhood, there had been nothing to indicate that smelling was an essential skill – Castiel could live without smelling the first flowers of the spring, and whenever someone older had mentioned that people smelled like their sub-gender, that Alphas, Betas and Omegas had different nuances to them, Castiel had shrugged and promptly forgot about it. Sense of smell simply didn’t matter to him, nor to his childhood friends – none of them ever mentioned scenting someone.

But with puberty, there were two big changes. One, his Omega father cried happy tears that his son was finally becoming “a real Alpha,” and two, Castiel still couldn’t tell what any of that meant, which made his father cry harder.

Despite the first shock, Castiel had since then found out that like in childhood, having no sense of smell mattered very little in adult life. The biggest mishaps he encountered were minor – food poisonings since he couldn’t tell the food was spoiled, burning something because he couldn’t sense the smoke coming out of the oven, and sometimes not having an appetite because everything tasted like molecules. But these were all things that he’d learned to deal with, even if his father Chuck still insisted that Castiel was a baby who couldn’t be trusted to turn on the stove, much less cook for himself. He used a timer to a religious degree, regulated his meals strictly so he didn’t go over the “best before” dates, and preferred crunchy food, or whatever felt best in his mouth. Since he had never known what “spring smelt like,” he couldn’t miss it, and he could admire flowers and nature with his eyes just as well.

But the one hurdle that he still didn’t know how to cross, were social interactions.

As his asshole of an uncle had once told him, communication was 80 per cent smell, and only 20 per cent words. And how could Castiel ever interact with anyone, if he didn’t know what was really being said? How could he converse with anyone when he proceeded blindly, without taking into account how people presented and how they wanted to express themselves? Evidently, he couldn’t. Relying on visual clues and words only taught Castiel that people rarely said what they truly meant, that smiles had other meanings than just happiness, and that cruel laughter was almost indistinguishable from amused laughter.

But he had thought that if he applied himself, he could get better at reading people. That he wouldn’t mistake another person’s smile as friendly when it was, in fact, flirty, and he wouldn’t mistake hollow laughter for genuine interest.

Which had only led him to another disappointing encounter with an overprotective boyfriend.

Discouraged, Castiel was ready to turn and walk away, and leave Benny to posture for his girl, but then another person joined the scene. A boy with sand-brown hair appeared from behind the bookshelf and inserted himself into the group like he had every right to be there, gently nudging Andrea.

“I know whose dorm I’m gonna avoid tonight,” he said, making Andrea snort. “You two smell disgustingly lovey-dovey.”

“We do not,” Benny tried to mutter, still gripping onto Andrea.

The stranger turned to Castiel, rolling his eyes.

“Eh, don’t mind him, he gets a kick out of pretending to be an overbearing Alpha,” he said. “He’s just trying to hide his real nature. Aren’t you, cuddly bear?”

“I fall asleep on you _one_ time…” Benny muttered.

Castiel distinctly felt like he shouldn’t have been there. Benny, Andrea and this boy were clearly close friends, and whatever threesome he had stumbled upon, he didn’t want to get involved. Before he could escape, the boy shot him a smile and offered his hand.

“Hi, I’m Dean,” he said, with a charming smile. But there was something about the smile, a glint in his eye, that made Castiel hesitate. Sometimes telling people’s gender was hard, and Castiel tried not to make assumptions, because not everyone wore gender-typical clothing or even identified as Alpha, Beta or Omega, but since people seemed to put much importance on it, Castiel had come up with a system to make educated guesses. Since he had never been able to smell it, he cared little for gender, but it did come up in conversation sometimes, and Castiel didn’t want to offend anyone by using the wrong pronouns or gender honorifics.

Dean’s sub-gender was a hard one to tell, though. At first glance, Castiel thought that he might’ve been a Beta, since he lacked the posturing typical to Alphas, but… He was Castiel’s height, well built, and dressed more like an Alpha, in a dark t-shirt, jeans and hoodie. Then again, he wasn’t growling under his breath, like Alphas usually did when meeting Castiel for the first time.

There was something about the way Dean was eyeing him, though. With the smile and the offered hand, it almost seemed like Dean was making fun of him.

Another Alpha, then, Castiel decided. Another Alpha hell-bent on making Castiel feel like a freak when he didn’t behave like a typical, hot-headed Alpha would.

“Castiel,” he said, lowly. He did take Dean’s hand, but hesitantly, and perhaps squeezed it a tiny bit tighter than he should have. If Dean noticed the challenge, he didn’t let it show.

“Weird name,” Dean said. Castiel frowned. “Did your mom like Scandinavian myths or something?”

“It comes from old Hebrew,” Castiel said, baffled. If Dean was making fun of his name, he should have picked a better line.

“Huh,” Dean said. He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. He put his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, still watching Castiel.

Castiel couldn’t think of anything to say, but then Dean opened his mouth again.

“So how do you know Andrea, anyway?”

“He’s in my Bio class,” Andrea interjected. “We were just talking about book recommendations when this dork—” she cuffed Benny in the head, making him wince, “—went all knothead on him.”

“Oh, you’re another pre-med?” Dean asked, eyes bright. Castiel couldn’t tell if his interest was genuine or if it was a subtle dig about something.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded.

“Cool,” Dean said, and he seemed to at least mean that. “So you know what you’re gonna do in the future. I’m still undecided.”

“Yeah, how’s that picking a major thing going, Dean?” Benny asked. “You can’t put it off forever.”

“Hey, Death promised me that I got time until spring. I’m not gonna rush that.”

“Death?” Castiel asked. Dean’s bright eyes fell on him again, and Castiel felt a tad awkward under such scrutiny.

“The counselor,” Dean said. “Because he’s deadly boring.”

“No, it’s because most people who end up in his office disappear after that,” Andrea protested.

“I keep telling ya, sweetheart, they just transferred,” Benny said.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that they never seem to say goodbye? Or did you ever hear from Elizabeth again?”

“Hey, so, before you dive into conspiracy theories, is anyone hungry? I still got an hour before my next class,” Dean announced then, with an appropriate accompanying sound from his stomach.

Castiel wasn’t sure how he ended up going to the cafeteria with Dean, Benny and Andrea, but there he was, seated next to Dean and opposite of Benny, who was looking much calmer now that there was a table in between Castiel and Andrea. Castiel still didn’t know what to say, but he was getting more relaxed the more they talked. Andrea worked as a buffer between them all, and Castiel could at least talk about classes and Biology with her. Benny didn’t care much about that, but he did nod occasionally as he listened to her talk, and looked really proud of his girlfriend. Dean mostly listened, but he did seem interested when Andrea mentioned their current assignment on human anatomy, and when Castiel added that he could loan her a book on the topic.

“So, Cas,” Dean said when Benny and Andrea fell back into their own debate about Death the counselor. “Pre-med, huh?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, again, because he wasn’t sure if Dean was trying to open a discussion or if he was trying to be condescending. That smirk was hard to read.

“You planning to be a surgeon or something?”

“You can hardly plan to be a surgeon,” Castiel said, still feeling off-balance. “And it’s not the only option in the medical world. I could just as well end up as an anesthesiologist, or a researcher.”

“Sounds boring,” Dean said, and Castiel felt his hackles rise. “I’d at least need the action. Where’s the fun if all you do is watch slides all day long?”

“Isn’t that what we’re currently doing?” Castiel asked, thinking back to his morning lecture and how tired the professor had looked when they’d realized they’d used to wrong PowerPoint file again.

Dean barked out a laugh, startling Benny and Andrea. They both raised their brows at Dean.

“Very funny, Cas.”

“I try,” Castiel said. That was a lie – he couldn’t tell a joke if his life depended in it. People mostly just seemed to find whatever he said funny, even if Castiel couldn’t see the funny part.

“Yeah,” Dean said. His eyes were very bright when he turned toward Castiel and said, his tone rushed, “So, hey, uh, big guy, wanna go out with me?”

Castiel stiffened. Dean was staring expectantly at him, as were Benny and Andrea, both quiet now, and cold dread ran up Castiel’s spine. If Dean had asked him when they were alone, Castiel might have given it more consideration, but after such a short while of knowing each other, and sitting here, in the cafeteria, at the same table as Dean’s smirking friends, one of who was a hotheaded Alpha and one who liked that part of her boyfriend… It was obvious that this had been a set-up to mock Castiel from the beginning. Benny had obviously disliked him, Andrea had been ambiguous, and Dean had been teetering along the edge of nice and sarcastic, and now Castiel knew where the scales tipped. The worst thing was that Castiel didn’t even care about the notions society usually put on gender – he found it absurd that Alphas couldn’t go out with other Alphas, or that two Omegas couldn’t date without being harassed – so if Dean had asked him sincerely, Castiel wouldn’t have even blinked at the request. But he knew that in the eyes of football playing, rowdy Alphas, the only reason someone like Dean would ask him out was to hurt him.

His heart sank, and barely concealing his rage, Castiel managed to spit out, “No.”

Castiel hadn’t thought that Dean would go that far, but Castiel should have expected something like this to happen. He chastised himself for being stupid _again_. It was just like back in high school, when he was surrounded by people who only pretended to like him, just long enough so they could make fun of the “stupid weirdo,” see how long it took the “idiot” to notice what everyone’s scents were telling behind his back, laugh at how “naïve and dumb” he was to believe that someone might actually want to go out with him. Castiel had thought that he’d gotten better at reading social situations, that he’d at least learned to blend in, not stick out like a sore thumb, but apparently he still had things to learn.

Castiel grabbed his bag and stood up, taking his half-eaten sandwich with him.

“Hey, Cas, wait up!” Dean called out after him, but Castiel didn’t stop.

“My name is Castiel,” he snapped, before walking away. He didn’t want to hear the cruel words Dean surely had in store for him.

 

* * *

 

Following the debacle with Dean and his friends, Castiel tried to keep his distance for a while. Andrea still shared Biology classes with him, but she usually sat with her other friends, so Castiel didn’t have to worry about her. Even if she wanted to talk, Castiel was too cautious to let her, and left the classes fast enough for her not to catch him.

Three weeks of the first period had passed when Castiel finally made a breakthrough. The first person to actually react favorably to his attempts at being friendly was a girl in his English class. She usually sat a few seats from Castiel, but the seats between them were unoccupied, so Castiel had gotten accustomed to thinking of her as his seatmate, so to speak. Luckily it didn’t take a lot to open his mouth and turn the conversation from old dusty books to something else.

Charlie Bradbury, as he learned, was unabashedly a nerd. Her bag was filled with stickers and pins, all referencing different games, animes or TV shows, and she didn’t seem one bit bothered when people stared at her collection. Her attitude was what first drew Castiel to her, and when he finally gathered enough courage to start talking to her…

Well, it seemed that his fears had been unfounded, and the more difficult thing would be to get Charlie to stop talking. 

 _Classroom Cas and Charlie:_  


 

“…and that is why Ron and Hermione’s romance isn’t the same thing in the movies as it is in the books,” she finished her long-winded explanation. Castiel didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’d never seen the movies, although he had read the books. It was a classic series, after all.

“You’re very passionate about this,” Castiel stated.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Charlie asked, flipping her flaming red hair back. “What goes on to the screen matters! Fictional characters deserve to be treated with respect, too!”

“Haven’t thought of it like that,” Castiel mused. The professor switched the slide, finally, and they both leaned down to copy the one sentence that was relevant in the midst of all the text. The lecture had been going on for a while now, but it wasn’t like anyone paid any attention to it – Castiel and Charlie were hardly the only people talking over the professor.

“Don’t you have any fictional characters who have influenced you so much or, or, or meant so much to you during hard times that you’d be hard-pressed to not take it personally if they were butchered in a movie adaptation?”

“Hm,” Castiel said, finishing his notes. He glanced at the professor, still yammering away, and turned back to Charlie. “Well, if anyone was ever interested in properly remaking Chrono Trigger for modern consoles, I’d definitely have notes about that.”

“That’s a weird choice,” she said, and Castiel was already bracing himself to hear something even worse to top off that sentence, but then she grinned. “Old-school gamer, huh? You’d fit in so well with my friends! Hey, have you ever played Overwatch? Oh, well, doesn’t matter, we’ll teach you anyway.”

“Uh, no, I’m not that much into online gaming,” Castiel managed to finally say. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Castiel smiled a bit as he continued, “Like you said, I’m more of an old-school player. RPGs. They don’t require company to play.”

She looked a bit funnily at him, but thankfully chose to ignore that uncomfortable bit of honesty.

“Even better!” she said instead. “So, besides Chrono Trigger, what is your poison, Final Fantasy? Star Ocean? Dragon Quest? Or maybe Ultima?”

“All that and everything in between,” Castiel shrugged. “Think I’ve replayed Chrono Trigger the most, though.”

“How’d you get into old-school games, anyway? I mean, I like them too, but I dabble in everything. And it’s so hard to find certain titles nowadays.”

“My older brother,” Castiel said as an explanation. “Much older, actually. They were his childhood games, so he taught me what he knew.”

What he didn’t say that most of his memories of his older brother Gabriel were like that – long, sunny afternoons spent inside playing games that most of Castiel’s peers had never heard of or didn’t care about, because you couldn’t shoot everything on sight, and Gabriel patiently guiding Castiel through harder parts or even reading the text out loud since Castiel was too young to read it himself. Sometimes, he ached for those simpler days – before Gabriel moved away, before his friends grew up and everything stopped making sense, before his father Chuck returned from his trip around the world and insisted that he take care of Castiel, despite being absent for thirteen years of his life.

“Ooh, now I’ve got to introduce you around, we’re all old school gaming nerds,” Charlie gushed, pulling Castiel from his thoughts. “How about tabletop gaming? You ever played D&D?”

To the professor’s chagrin, they ignored the rest of the lecture as well, and by the end of it, Castiel was well acquainted with every game Charlie and her friends usually played – everything, it seemed, ranging from tabletop games to Magic the Gathering, which Castiel had only vaguely heard of. Castiel didn’t feel any shame or his usual awkwardness with Charlie, so he eagerly followed her when the lecture ended and they made their way outside to the campus area. Charlie had a free period before her next class, and even if Castiel didn’t, she seemed happy to escort him to the next classroom. They were crossing the grounds, still deep in discussion, and for once, Castiel felt peaceful in someone’s presence.

And then, a painfully familiar-sounding voice from behind them called, “Oi, Charlie!”

Despite the fact that he kept walking, Castiel felt frozen to the core on the inside. What were the odds that the one and only person on the college grounds he wished to avoid was friends with the only person he’d made a connection with so far?

Fuck his life, Castiel decided before turning around and facing Dean.

“Oh,” Dean said, stopping in his tracks. His confusion was short-lived, however, and he grinned when he saw Castiel. Castiel braced himself. “Oh, hi again, Cas. Where’ve you been hiding?”

“It’s Castiel,” he corrected, annoyed.

“Oh, um, if you say so,” Dean said.

“I didn’t know you knew Cas!” Charlie gushed from the side. “This is great, I was just about to introduce you two – now you can geek out over the particularities of Final Fantasy fighting systems, or whatever, and leave me to have fun with Tracer and company.”

“I thought I already promised to try your game,” Castiel said.

“As if you could get out of that, Cas, believe me,” Charlie laughed.

“Hey, why does she get the nickname privileges?” Dean asked. Castiel refrained from saying the first thing that popped into his mind – “Because unlike you, she didn’t humiliate me and isn’t constantly making fun of me” – and simply ignored Dean.

“I never said I was averse to Overwatch, Charlie, just that I have never played it—”

“Oh, you’ll want to get out of that when she starts to play. She’ll never stop, either,” Dean interjected. Castiel frowned at him, but Charlie seemed unfazed.

“Hey, I do sometimes stop to eat,” Charlie shrugged. “Speaking of which,” she continued, rubbing her stomach, “Come eat with me, Dean? Cas has a class, otherwise I’d kidnap him, too.”

“Er,” Castiel said, already realizing that he was being cut from the discussion and trying to find polite ways to tell Charlie that he wanted to speak to her again, preferably with no Dean present. Unfortunately, before he could subtly message Charlie that, Dean had already turned Charlie down.

“Can’t, I’ve got class, too.”

“Boo,” Charlie said. “Well, have fun, you two. I’ll see you at class on Thursday, right, Cas?”

“Um, yes—”

“I’ll message you before that! We need to get started on educating you on that D&D campaign.”

“But—”

Charlie waved them goodbye and dashed off, leaving them in a confused silence.

“She doesn’t even have my number,” Castiel muttered. Dean laughed at that, and Castiel felt his skin prickle. On top of everything, Dean sounded unfairly lovely when he laughed.

“Don’t worry about that, she’ll find you, dude. I’d be surprised if she hasn’t already added you to the group chat.”

As if to confirm Dean’s words, Castiel felt his phone buzz. Dean’s eyes followed his hands as he took his phone from his bag and confirmed that yes, Charlie had indeed somehow found his number and added him to several group chats – some of which, naturally, had one “Dean Winchester” also among the members. Unable to meet Dean’s eyes, Castiel pocketed his phone and turned to leave to his class.

“Hey, are you going to the A building?”

Dean kept following him, so Castiel couldn’t help but sigh and politely ask, “You have class there, too?”

“Sure. I have a little bit of everything,” Dean said. “Hey, I’ll walk you to your class, since we’re both going there!”

“Why not,” Castiel muttered, because he couldn’t think of a way to get rid of Dean.

They walked towards the building in silence, because Castiel wasn’t going to say anything, and Dean was probably busy thinking of ways to further insult Castiel. Castiel realized that he might have been a little unfair to Dean – after all, he _was_ friends with Charlie, and she seemed perfectly nice – but every time he tried to give Dean another chance, he was reminded of the humiliation Dean had put him through, and he felt anger claw his insides again.

“So, uh, what do you have?” Dean asked after a heavy silence. “What do pre-meds even study?”

“Chemistry,” Castiel said. Dean glanced at him, and when Castiel didn’t continue, Dean flashed him that strange smirk again.

“You don’t speak much, do you?” Dean said. “Oh, well, someone’s gotta keep up the mystery.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Castiel said, because he honestly didn’t.

“You know, tall, dark, mysterious stranger?” Dean continued. “Hopefully not of the axe-murderer variety?”

Great. Dean Winchester was comparing him to an axe-murderer. Good to know where he stood, Castiel fumed in his mind.

Thankfully, they reached the A building soon enough, and without waiting for Dean, Castiel went ahead and started to walk towards his classroom. To his surprise, Dean kept following him.

“Where’s your class?” Castiel finally asked, unable to contain his annoyance.

“Room 151,” Dean shrugged, with a grin that Castiel was now way too familiar with. He sighed.

“Dean, that’s where my class is.”

“Is it?” Dean asked, too sweetly to be innocent. “Oh, guess I didn’t mention that I’ve got Chemistry, too.”

And that’s when Castiel realized that there was no getting rid of Dean Winchester. As if sharing new friends wasn’t awkward enough, Dean now shared some of his classes, too.

Fuming, Castiel picked up his pace and entered the classroom without Dean. He picked a seat in the front row, the last one available, ensuring that Dean couldn’t sit next to him. Dean seemed much more interested in sitting in the back with some other friends of his, anyway.

Castiel had trouble concentrating on the class, feeling Dean’s eyes on the back of his head all the while, and when the class finally ended, he couldn’t sit up fast enough and dash out of the door. That wasn’t enough to stop Dean, however, because he literally ran after Castiel.

Well, he was committed, Castiel could give him that.

“Hey, Cas, wait up!” Dean called.

“What, Dean?” Castiel sighed when Dean fell into step with him. It annoyed Castiel that he noticed that Dean wasn’t even winded after that short spurt – the slight blush on his cheeks was the only sign of exertion, and Castiel was mad at himself for noticing that.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in my Chem class?” Castiel asked instead.

“A boy needs his secrets?” Dean offered, with a grin. “Hey, I didn’t know you were in my class, either. But now I can escort you to class every day!”

“I don’t need an escort, Dean.”

“Wow, I should hope not,” Dean snickered, and only then Castiel noticed what he’d actually said. Feeling flustered, Castiel tried to pick up the pace, but Dean was easily falling in step with him.

“So, how was the class?” Dean asked.

“You were there,” Castiel said. “You know exactly how it went.”

“Uh, yeah, somewhat.” Dean smiled, and Castiel couldn’t help but look, even if he wanted to look away. “About that? Could you borrow me your notes?”

“You were in class. Why would you need my notes?”

“Maybe I can buy you a cup of coffee in exchange? How about that, Cas?”

Dean batted his eyelashes at Castiel, and for the first time, Castiel noticed just how brightly green his eyes were. But the gesture felt weird, and the way Dean was looking at him, as if making himself smaller and…prettier?…like a stereotypical Omega would, only seemed mocking, especially coming from an Alpha. The whole display looked like it belonged to a stage.

“Don’t call me that,” Castiel snapped, irritated.

“Well, what else should I call you, if not ‘Cas?’”

“You can call me by my honorific,” Castiel snapped, and Dean at least flushed at that. Not that Castiel cared one way or another about proper titles, but some conservatives movements still insisted that everyone should be called by their gender honorific before getting closely acquainted, and it did bring some twisted satisfaction to Castiel when he thought of Dean calling him ‘Alpha.’

“Uh, um, sure, if…if you insist,” Dean said. Then he grinned, and added, “Sir Grumpy.”

Castiel kept on walking. Just when he thought Dean had given up, he heard a, “See you at class tomorrow, Cas!” from behind.

Castiel sighed. It seemed that there was no getting rid of Dean, now.


	2. stay close to me

Dean’s first year of college was pretty uneventful; he didn’t need to move very far from his childhood home, since he didn’t leave the state, but he did gladly leave his dismissive Alpha father behind and traded it for – well, not peace and quiet, considering the stunts his roommate Garth managed to pull during the first weeks alone – freedom. He was less glad to leave behind his younger brother Sam, who had just presented as an Alpha and was a confused ball of unattractive hair, sweat and several anxieties, but Dean was (mostly) certain that Sam and dad wouldn’t kill each other while Dean was away. Besides, it was easier, having finally the freedom to come and go as he pleased, and more importantly, _date_ whoever he wanted to.

Not that Dean did that a lot, even if he now had the freedom. Dean had a hard time believing in true love, when witnessing how people treated each other, but he definitely believed in lust at first scent, having encountered that first hand many times. (And he had indulged in it, too – it was college, why not experiment with a fellow Omega?) But then, as the start of his second year taught him, maybe that love at first scent thing wasn’t completely out of the question. The first time Dean felt like it could actually be in the realm of possibility was, to the eternal amusement of his friends, the first time he met one Castiel Novak.

First there was the wonderful scent that summoned Dean through the zigzagging corridors of the library, towards his friends, and then there was the moment when he saw dark hair, blue eyes and those incredible forearms attached to that strong Alpha scent, and that was it. He suddenly understood why movies liked to (incorrectly, but enthusiastically) depict love at first scent, because he was certain he was living that moment. In fact, Dean had no clue how he’d gotten through their first conversation, because from the first moment he’d seen and scented Castiel, he been so flustered that he could hardly think of anything to say.

Although it was a cliché, Dean had never met or scented anyone like Castiel. He was hard to read, just like his scent was hard to sense: it was peculiar for an Alpha, very faint, and almost never seemed to match what was happening. It seemed to be all over the place, flaring up at the strangest times, but stayed dull during tense or awkward situations. The first time they’d met, Dean had gotten a full blast of pinewood, smoke and fire, and he’d been tempted to ask if Castiel had gone camping recently, before he realized that the smell was coming from Castiel himself. But then…

Thinking back to their first conversation, Dean wanted the ground to swallow him – or perhaps invent a time machine, so that he could have a take two of that scene. Because while the conversation had been awkward, he’d gotten through it, successfully enough that they’d ended up in the cafeteria together. And then, just when things had seemed to go well, he’d stared a bit too long into Castiel’s blue eyes and the next thing he knew, he’d gone and blurted out the absolute wrong thing to say. The second Dean’s downstairs brain overruled his upstairs brain and decided it was perfectly fine to ask out someone after talking to them for ten minutes, it was all over. In a second, Castiel’s scent disappeared completely, along with his intense looks, and whatever goodwill Dean had managed to trudge up went down the drain. And after that, no matter how hard Dean tried, he couldn’t get a whiff of that peculiar scent.

So maybe he’d been steering a little too fast and had hit a wall. Maybe he needed to regroup and think of a new strategy, one that didn’t involve making a complete fool of himself.

But he didn’t catch a sniff of Castiel for the next few weeks. The college grounds were huge and there were thousands of students, but Dean still couldn’t help but wonder if Castiel was intentionally avoiding him. Dean camped out in the library for weeks afterwards (to study, obviously – although he might have had an ulterior motive, too), but didn’t see nor sniff Castiel even once.

And then Lady Luck decided to grace him with a gift, because it seemed that Castiel was in Charlie Bradbury’s class, and those two were becoming fast friends. Dean had been friends with Charlie since high school, and if Castiel was becoming friends with her, so much the better. It would make it easier for Dean to find opportunities to talk to Castiel, and besides, Charlie was awesome. It was nice to see her find new friends – especially Castiel, who didn’t seem to talk to anyone else but her.

And Dean.

Castiel squinted at him when Dean greeted him and Charlie on a Thursday, after their English lesson – so maybe Dean had asked Charlie about her schedule and how it may have coincided with Castiel’s, just _maybe_ – and offered to walk together to their next lesson. Charlie rolled her eyes at Dean when Castiel wasn’t looking, but Dean couldn’t offer her a better explanation other than a shrug. He tried to control his pheromones, but it was difficult, as Charlie’s expression let him know.

 _Contain yourself_ , her eyes seemed to say. _You’ll make him uncomfortable. It’s like you’ve drenched yourself in ‘Come Hither Number 5.’_

 _I’ll make you uncomfortable_ , Dean stared back, to which Charlie could only mouth, “ _What_?”

At least Castiel was gentleman enough not to mention how strongly Dean must’ve smelled. And to Dean’s surprise, there was no change in Castiel’s scent – in fact, he smelled very dull, almost like he had no scent at all.

“So, uhhh, how’s English beneficial for a pre-med?” Dean asked, trying to catch Castiel’s eye. The Alpha was staring right ahead as they walked, but offered Dean the tiniest glance. His eyes roamed over the t-shirt Dean was wearing (an old Def Leppard t-shirt, so worn out in strategic places that Dean might’ve chosen it because of those particular holes), but quickly returned to stare right ahead.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Castiel asked, voice deep. “It’s a beneficial subject for anyone.”

“I dunno,” Dean said. He racked his brain for something to say. Castiel made him nervous, in a way that he hadn’t felt since elementary school in the presence of his first crush. Charlie, who’d been thankfully holding back her comments, sent him a look of, _This is the most ridiculous crush you’ve ever had_ , and Dean had to glare at her until she realized that he was saying, _Like you’re any better when talking to Dorothy? Leave me alone_. Charlie huffed and fell back, pretending to be more interested in her cell phone than the discussion.

“Don’t you guys use just abbreviations for everything in medicine? Like, it’s a DD with ABC, or something.”

“Every field has its own jargon, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, so you still need to learn a new language for it, right? That doesn’t have anything to do with writing the same essay on The Great Gatsby for the fifth time.”

Castiel’s scent flared up, and for a moment, Dean was able to smell the inviting mix of campfire and pinewood, beckoning him to come closer and explore the scenery, and then it was gone.

“I suppose,” he said, watching Dean with dark eyes. Dean blinked; for a moment, it looked like Castiel was going to say something else, and then he looked away and said, “Although I don’t know who would be masochistic enough to write the same essay five times. Especially on The Great Gatsby.”

Dean barked a laugh, and Castiel’s scent flared up again, just for a second, before disappearing. Dean already missed the scent – smelling Castiel was a challenge on its own.

“Well, it’s a good thing you aren’t an English major.”

“I guess,” Castiel said, glancing towards Dean, but not continuing the discussion. Dean scrambled for another topic.

“Uh, so did Charlie kidnap you to play Overwatch yet?”

This time Castiel at least looked at him when he said, “There was no kidnapping involved. I went willingly.”

“But there might’ve been chocolate-y bribes,” Charlie piped up. “Though, it was such a disaster that I think I need to offer you something better next time.”

“Try pecan pie?” Dean offered.

“Pie only works on you, Dean,” Charlie said, rolling her eyes. “You’d come running from the other side of the campus if you as much as caught a whiff of it.”

Castiel shifted, looking away.

“Exactly!” Dean argued. “So you know it works!”

Castiel said nothing, and for a moment, Dean seriously wondered was this all worth it. He really couldn’t be friends with someone who didn’t appreciate good food.

“So how about you, Cas? What’s your favorite pie?” Dean asked.

“Pecan, maybe,” he finally said, after a pause.

Dean gasped. “See, Charlie? It works! A man after my own heart,” Dean joked. He would’ve clapped Castiel on the back, but Castiel seemed oddly stiff, avoiding his gaze, and Dean realized that physical contact might be too soon in their relationship. Castiel seemed to avoid it, in any case. Dean didn’t know what the true story was, but Castiel had the air of someone who had been lonely as a child. Maybe that was why he seemed so shy and avoided physical contact. Even Charlie, who was as touchy-feely as they came, hadn’t initiated any contact with Castiel so far.

“This is where we leave you, brave soldier,” Charlie said when they arrived in front of the classroom. Dean had barely noticed the rest of the trip, too busy thinking of things he could discuss with Castiel, who was either perfectly content in the silence or painfully shy to introduce topics of his own.

“Right,” Dean said, stupidly. Castiel’s blue eyes glanced towards him, and Dean felt rooted to the spot. He should’ve said something, maybe asked if Charlie was planning another game night that they could all attend, but all that came out of his mouth was, “Well, smell ya later.”

Castiel frowned, and then suddenly, his scent flared up, before dying again. Without a word, he turned and entered the classroom, not waiting for Charlie.

Charlie frowned after Castiel. “What’s his problem?” She glanced at Dean, suspicious, but Dean held his hands up.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No,” Charlie agreed. She then grinned. “But maybe invest in some scent blockers, next time. You really could bottle that smell and sell it. You’d rake a fortune in the perfume industry.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t—” Dean flushed. “You’re never going to let me forget that one time I borrowed my grandma’s perfume, are you?”

“Never,” Charlie singsonged as she turned to go into the classroom. “Wearing perfume? Perfectly okay. The fact that it belonged to your grandma? Not okay.”

“I’m never playing Truth or Dare with you again,” Dean grumbled.

Dean did wonder, though, when Charlie disappeared into the classroom, why Castiel had reacted the way he did. His scent flared up at random times, and talking to him was a game of hot and cold.

But the challenge only fueled Dean’s interest. He couldn’t stay away from Castiel. Most Alphas were openly aggressive and cocky, so much so that they broadcasted their interest and intentions all over, but not Castiel. Castiel was the greatest mystery of all. Dean never knew what to expect with Castiel, and although that might have deterred someone else, Dean just found himself strangely intrigued by the challenge. There was something about Castiel, something that called out to Dean, and he wanted to find out what it was.

 

* * *

 

Castiel, as Dean quickly found out, really disliked being interrupted while he was reading. If he was shy and stiff whenever Dean tried to talk to him in between classes, he was downright dismissive when Dean finally happened to run into him in the library. Dean usually preferred his room to study, since he could blast music as loud as he wanted to (Garth never minded, because most of the time, he wasn’t even there), but his Math class was weighing down on Dean, and he really needed to concentrate on his homework if he wanted to get anything done. Dean was still unsure what he wanted to major in, but rest assured, once he got through this class, he was _never_ taking Math again.

His mood was instantly improved when he spotted Castiel, sitting by a round table in the corner, all by himself. There were several books spread out in front of him, ensuring that no one else would dare to join him at the table, but Dean naturally ignored that subtle warning and went to sit opposite of him. Castiel glanced up when Dean sat, and his eyes widened a little at Dean’s grin.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“It’s a library,” Castiel muttered. “It’s a public place. Nothing ‘fancy’ about that.”

“Mm,” Dean said, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever Castiel was reading. “What’s that?”

“Homework,” Castiel said, granting Dean a small frown, and then went immediately back to his book.

Okay, so apparently Sir Grumpy wasn’t in the mood to talk. Despite Dean’s nose _begging_ him to get closer and snuggle up to Castiel, Dean could be an adult (legally, though perhaps not mentally) and recognize that this wasn’t the time to lay on the charm. He dug up his own homework and opened the book, sensing a pair of blue eyes glance at him, but when he lifted his eyes to meet the gaze, Castiel was resolutely staring at his book.

Dean couldn’t help a small smile, and went back to his Math problems.

They studied in silence for a long while, and although Dean tried to appear relaxed, his heart skipped a beat every time he sensed Castiel looking at him through his dark lashes. It was subtle, and Dean didn’t want to draw attention to it, but it made his heart thrum. It was also very hard to concentrate on Math, when it felt much more important to track how many times Castiel glanced at him and how his scent was subtly growing stronger with every minute they spent together.

But Dean did really try to concentrate on his homework, especially since Castiel was doing the same. As the clock ticked forward, though, Dean only got more and more frustrated. Castiel was calmly reading and taking notes (Dean had spied that he was reading up on some diseases and writing his notes on the symptoms), but Dean wasn’t making much progress with his homework, and much less with Castiel, who seemed to have completely forgotten he was there, aside from a few glances. Dean’s frustration only grew at that, until he finally sighed one too many times and twirled his pencil too fast for Castiel to not notice.

“Are you having problems?” Castiel asked.

“No,” Dean said, pretending to write something clever on his notebook. He didn’t want Castiel to think that he was stupid.

“Hmm,” Castiel said, and went back to his own notes. Dean endured the silence for five seconds and then broke; stupid or not stupid, at least Math gave him an excuse to talk to Castiel.

“It’s just this stupid problem,” Dean muttered. “I’ve done it three times, and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but I can’t get the right answer.”

Castiel gave him a look that Dean couldn’t begin to decipher, and then sighed, “Let me see.”

Dean slid his notebook to Castiel, who took a quick look at it, then at his Math book to see what the chapter was about, and then back at the notebook. Dean tried to be inconspicuous in his ogling, but he probably wasn’t; the contrast of Castiel’s blue eyes and his dark hair and tanned skin was too much to ignore, not to mention the scent of woods and smoky campfire that had now gotten so strong that it was impossible to ignore. Dean had the absurd thought of _rolling around_ in that scent, preferably in Castiel’s bed, and when Castiel finally looked up from the notebook, Dean couldn’t help but flush at being caught. He was aware that his skin prickled and his own scent was going haywire, but once again, Castiel was a gentleman and didn’t as much as flare his nostrils at that. Dean felt embarrassed enough that he was reacting so strongly to Castiel – it was a blessing that Castiel chose to ignore the way his body was screaming, _I have an iceberg sized crush on you._

“You just had a typo here,” Castiel said, pointing at the notes with his pencil, and Dean belatedly looked down at the problem. “Otherwise, the calculations are correct.”

“Oh, thanks,” Dean said. He quickly took his notes back and corrected the mistake. “So, uh, are you taking Math, too?”

“I did, last year,” Castiel said.

“Not this year?”

“I don’t have to, thankfully,” Castiel said.

“Ugh, right, you graduated from Math to Chemistry? I wouldn’t take that trade-up.”

“I like Chemistry,” Castiel said.

“I don’t,” Dean sighed. “But hey, at least the company there is good,” Dean said, throwing a grin at Castiel.

“If you say so, Dean.”

Castiel gave him a tiny smile, just a little quirk of his lips, but Dean’s heart stuttered and his scent flared. But once again, Castiel politely ignored the way Dean’s scent was saying, _So, that iceberg sized crush you saw earlier? That was just the tip._

Struck by a sudden idea, Dean asked, “So I was thinking, maybe we could study for that Chem test together, how about that?”

“We’re already studying together,” Castiel said, pointedly looking at his notes.

“Yeah, but, maybe…in a more…private space,” Dean said. His heart stuttered painfully when Castiel’s eyes glanced at his. “Bet I could show you some real chemistry, eh?”

Castiel frowned at him, and then said, “I highly doubt that,” before turning back to his notes.

But he didn’t run away and his scent was still flaring up, which, Dean thought, was an improvement. Dean sighed, and silently went back to his notes.

* * *

 

Dean really didn’t know what he was doing wrong. He’d thought that their impromptu study session at the library had gone well, but the next time he crashed Charlie and Castiel’s lunch, Castiel was back to being shy and stiff, like they hadn’t made any progress at all. His scent was muted as well, blocking Dean from reading any emotions.

“Hey, Charles,” Dean said, stealing a piece of chocolate from Charlie’s “lunch,” and sat down next to her. He grinned at Castiel, who looked up from his own lunch – a little better than Charlie’s chocolate bar and juice, as it was a sandwich – and gave Dean a wary nod. His scent gave no hint to what he was thinking about. Nervously, Dean unpacked his own lunch, a simple container with mac and cheese in it. Even if it was lukewarm by now, it still looked better than anything Charlie and Castiel had.

“Whatcha eating there, Cas?” Dean asked. It wasn’t a very exciting topic, but it was an opener, at least. As Dean had hoped, Castiel looked down at his sandwich and then at Dean again.

“It’s a sandwich,” Castiel said, and Dean chuckled.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“PB and J,” Castiel continued. Dean stared at him, not sure if he was joking or not for a moment.

“PB and J? Really?”

Castiel blinked at him, and seemed to crouch further over his sandwich.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, it just…I mean, I haven’t eaten PB and J since childhood. Got sick of them when I was ten.” Castiel gave him another bland look, and Dean continued, “But hey, if you like the flavor…”

“I really wouldn’t know,” Castiel said quietly, aiming his grumbling more to his sandwich than to Dean.

“See? Why bother eating it, then?” Dean laughed.

“You can’t really say that, Dean. We’re all eating comfort foods,” Charlie commented.

“Your chocolate bar is comfort food. Mine is just _food_ ,” Dean protested. He noticed Castiel’s eyes linger over the container, and struck by a sudden idea, Dean scooped up a forkful of mac and cheese and raised it towards Castiel. “Have a taste?”

Castiel didn’t move at first, simply staring at the offered fork. Dean pushed it a bit more into his direction.

“Come on, it doesn’t smell that bad, does it?”

“No, Dean, because I can’t smell anything,” Castiel said, looking down at his sandwich again. Charlie snorted, because the smell of cheese was really strong in the air, and Dean couldn’t help a chuckle, either. Okay, maybe he’d been a bit excessive with the cheese, but he couldn’t help it if he liked it.

“At least try it?” Dean asked.

Castiel stole a glance at Charlie, who shrugged, and whatever Castiel saw there, made him finally take the offered fork and gingerly put the sampling in his mouth. Dean waited for the judgment, his heart beating unpleasantly loud in his ears.

“I don’t know what I’m eating,” Castiel said. His face twitched, but he schooled his expression into a blank stare. Dean’s stomach plummeted when he smelled the faint, displeased scent coming from Castiel. “It’s slimy.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Dean protested. He was proud of his cooking abilities, the only thing he really had going on for him, and it felt like a kick in the shins that Castiel didn’t like his cooking. “It’s mac and cheese, everyone likes that, right?”

“I can’t taste anything,” Castiel said quietly, putting the fork down into the container.

“Alright, no need to be overdramatic,” Dean grumbled. So maybe offering Castiel mac and cheese hadn’t been his best idea – it wasn’t like cheesy macaroni was a great culinary experience, after all. Maybe he should showcase his cooking abilities with something more complicated.

Castiel frowned at him, and didn’t answer.

Just then, someone cuffed Dean in the head as they walked past their table, and Dean turned in his seat to glare at the idiot, but his annoyance melted away when he saw that it was Benny standing behind him, with a wide grin on his face. Dean rolled his eyes at Benny; they’d known each other since first year, and shared baseball practice, so Dean had long ago gotten used to Benny’s rough expressions of friendship.

“Nice to see you too,” Dean quipped. “Care to join us for lunch?”

Benny looked at the selection “lunches” spread out on the table, and almost managed to hold back his laughter as he said, “No, thanks, and I don’t think any of those count as an actual lunch.”

“Objection, chocolate is an excellent source of protein,” Charlie said, popping another piece of chocolate into her mouth.

“It’s really not,” Castiel said.

“Hush, you’re not a doctor yet, you’re not qualified to give me nutritional advice.”

“I don’t think I need a license to read the list of ingredients on that bar,” Castiel pointed out.

“I’ll give you a free pass to judge my eating habits once you’re earning the big bucks and have your own clinic, how about that?” Charlie said with a grin. Castiel actually grinned back at her, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat when he saw that dashing smile.

Benny shook his head, choosing to ignore that side-conversation.

“Sorry, but I already ate, and besides, I’m meeting Andrea in,” Benny glanced at the clock hanging on the cafeteria wall, “three minutes. And she hates it when I’m late.” He leaned closer to Dean. “I just came to say hi. It was pretty hard to ignore _this_ smell. Did you skip a shower this morning, Dean?”

“What? Of course I—” Dean fell silent when he realized what Benny was referring to with his wide grin, and groaned. His scent was going haywire again, as it seemed to do every time he was close to Castiel.

“Stop bothering me and go scent your girlfriend, if mine offends you so much,” Dean said. Benny laughed good-naturedly, clasped Dean on the shoulder as if to say, _Good luck with whatever’s happening here_ , and disappeared into the crowd in search of Andrea.

“Uh,” Dean said, when he realized that Castiel was staring at him. The intensity of the gaze made Dean feel sweaty and awkward, and he blurted out, “Sorry about the smell?”

Castiel frowned, eyes shifting to the side.

“I don’t smell anything,” he said then, looking away from Dean. It was clearly a white lie, with the way Castiel wasn’t meeting Dean’s eyes, but Dean was glad for it. At least Castiel continued to be a gentleman and didn’t mention how Dean very plainly smelled like he wanted to climb Castiel like a tree – even Charlie was subtly wrinkling her nose, and she was hard to shock with any kind of pheromones.

“Well, uh, that’s convenient,” Dean joked, weakly.

“ _You_ would think that,” Castiel said, frowning at his sandwich like it had personally offended him. Dean couldn’t help a small wince at Castiel’s words – despite Charlie’s and Benny’s reactions, he hadn’t realized he smelled _that_ badly. Now he was just embarrassed.

Castiel didn’t finish his sandwich. Sighing, he packed it up and wordlessly got up, only telling a confused Charlie over his shoulder, “I need to leave now. I’ll see you at class, Charlie.”

“Uh, sure, see you later,” Charlie said. Castiel didn’t even glance at Dean as he left, making Dean’s stomach plummet. He must’ve really been bothered by Dean’s scent, even if he was being more than civil about it.

“That went well,” Charlie muttered at Dean. Then she sighed. “Dean, honey, I know you like him, but maybe you don’t need to get on your knees and offer to feed him, while smelling like you’re ready to go ring shopping with him? What’s next, showing up under his apartment window with a boom box and roses?”

“I only did that once, and we promised to _never speak of that again_.”

“You said that. I never promised that,” Charlie chuckled. “How’s Lisa, anyway?”

“Very funny,” Dean muttered. “Dating an Alpha, nowadays. Apparently other Omegas weren’t her thing, after all, no matter what she said.”

“Sexuality is fluid, and you know it.”

“Oh, there were several fluids involved, let me tell you.”

“Ew! I didn’t need to picture that! Or smell _that_!” she grimaced, and threw her napkin at Dean.

Charlie was right about one thing, though. Dean was being incredibly obvious about his…infatuation, interest, crush, whatever it was, on Castiel, but Castiel had yet to reciprocate. His scent gave no hints about his thoughts, which had given Dean pause. But since Dean had never met anyone whose scent fluctuated like that, Dean had finally come to the only logical conclusion: for whatever reason, Castiel was using some extra strong, experimental scent blockers that reacted weirdly with his body.

Why Castiel deemed the blockers necessary, Dean had no idea. Castiel’s scent was strange, sure, but it wasn’t bad enough to use blockers for. The only people Dean had heard using blockers were those unfortunate souls who smelled like rotting flesh, that funky old-people-smell or garbage because of an illness, but Castiel was nowhere near that. He had no reason to use blockers, not like Dean, whose own scent was a tad atypical. And even Dean had stopped using blockers in high school, once he was old enough to think for himself and realized that what his father was telling him about his ‘disgusting smell’ was complete bullshit and more about his father’s prejudices than Dean’s actual scent. His roommate had certainly never complained, nor any of Dean’s friends or past lovers.

Maybe Castiel was very sensitive about his scent, although that didn’t sound right to Dean, either. Despite being quiet, Castiel had inner strength and didn’t seem the type to give a damn about what anyone thought. And Dean couldn’t fathom why anyone would willingly cover up their scent, since it was like, 80 percent of human communication.

But maybe Castiel was trying to hide his gender? It was possible, although if he was, he really should’ve just covered up his natural scent with something else. Synthetic Alpha, Beta and Omega scents all came in a bottle, as well, so it wasn’t like it was a hardship. Or maybe he was undecided, or non-binary… Dean really should just ask, lest he use the wrong pronouns. And it wasn’t like Dean cared – he was an equal-opportunity lover. All of his relationships (the few there were) had been with cis women, Omega and Alpha alike, but that didn’t mean they all had to be. Whatever Castiel identified as, Dean would be fully on board.

But perhaps he should ask if Castiel really was an Alpha, or if he identified as something else.

There didn’t seem to be a good way to introduce a topic like that, so the next time they were walking from a Chem class to eat (Charlie was meeting them in the cafeteria, for once), Dean tried to subtly broach the subject.

“So, uh,” he said, feeling like he was back to being a non-presented boy asking out his first non-presented girlfriend, and trying to subtly find out what they would end up being. “We’ve known each other for, like, six weeks?”

“More or less,” Castiel said, looking ahead. Dean had to big strides to keep up with him – Castiel seemed to be in a hurry to get to lunch.

“So… I never asked, but like, what are your preferred pronouns?”

Castiel stopped and frowned at him. “Excuse me?”

“Like, do I call you Omega, or…Beta?” Dean added, nervously. He saw the stormy look gathering to Castiel’s eyes, and suddenly didn’t know why he had ever thought this was a good idea.

“I’m a true Alpha,” Castiel growled. He obviously didn’t mean to, but damn, Dean couldn’t help but react to that low voice. It sent shivers down his spine, equally excited and scared, the best combination Dean knew. He had a weakness for people who could tear him apart and then put him back together with a single kiss, and Castiel hit that sweet spot too well with his voice alone. Dean swallowed, attempting to hide his reaction before Castiel could smell it on him, but before he had to worry about that, Castiel added with a sneer:

“Not that you’d recognize a real Alpha even if you saw one.”

With that, Castiel stalked away, leaving Dean standing in the hallway confused and, admittedly, a little horny. Maybe it was a good thing that Castiel had ran away so quickly, because otherwise he might have noticed that Dean was getting a little tight in his trousers. And his smell definitely gave his arousal away.

Embarrassed, Dean turned and left. It was all fine and dandy to talk to your crush and try and convince them to go out with you, but the second bodily fluids or aroused scents came into play in front of them, it crossed over to creepy. And Dean definitely didn’t want to scare Castiel away.

* * *

 

So, as Dean reviewed his life lately, perhaps asking Castiel outright if he was an Alpha wasn’t the best approach. Charlie promptly whacked him with a textbook when he told her about his encounter with Castiel, and for once, Dean couldn’t even complain about that.

“What were you thinking?” Charlie hissed. “You, of all people!”

“I don’t know,” Dean muttered. “I guess I panicked. It went better in my head.”

“You think so, O Wise One?” Charlie grimaced. “Or maybe you should’ve checked the part where _it’s none of your business_. Unless he chooses to tell you!”

“I know,” Dean said, miserable. “I just…I really want to get to know him.”

“Hey,” Charlie said, eyes shining softly. Oh no. That was her ‘we-need-to-have-a-serious-talk’ face. “I know you like him. And I know you want to get to know him, but…maybe you shouldn’t push too hard? I mean…”

She sighed. “Look, Dean, you’re my friend, and I love you like a brother, but Cas is my friend too, and he’s climbing that scale ‘from friend to brother’ pretty quickly, as well. And if you’re making him uncomfortable…” She paused. “I don’t want you two to end up in this weird…limbo state. And I _really_ don’t want to end up as a referee between you guys.”

Dean sighed, because as annoyingly righteous as Charlie could be, she was also right.

“I know. It’s just… I know he likes me. You’ve smelled him, right? It’s not just in my head? His scent fits my scent.”

Charlie nodded, but then said, gently, “But you know scent-to-scent attraction doesn’t always mean it’s going to work out.”

“Yeah, but, he’s…different and I just…I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

And therein laid the dilemma for Dean. He couldn’t be sure what to make of Castiel. Because even if Castiel’s scent language was ambiguous at best, his body language spoke very clearly. Whenever Dean smiled at him, or laughed a little too hard at his deadpan jokes, or leaned closer to him under the guise of listening attentively, Castiel’s eyes lingered on his, his breath hitched, and he subconsciously leaned closer as well. Even if Castiel’s mind wasn’t made up, his body wanted Dean. The odds were split fifty-fifty: either Castiel wanted him and was being frustratingly in denial about it, maybe because of poor self esteem (which Dean couldn’t understand, seeing how hot and nice and intelligent the guy was), or, more depressingly, Castiel felt attracted to him but didn’t really like or want him.

Or maybe it wasn’t fifty-fifty but rather, forty-forty-twenty, in which it was twenty percent possible Castiel had scented Dean’s anomalies and was disgusted by him. It didn’t happen often, and because Castiel had never asked him about it like all the other fuckers who had wanted to make him feel unworthy, Dean felt fairly certain that Castiel hadn’t yet realized why Dean didn’t smell like a typical Omega.

But maybe it was that twenty percent, all along. Maybe Dean simply wasn’t good enough for him. Maybe Dean’s scent did bother Castiel so much that despite how attracted he was to Dean, he’d never make a move, because there was that one thing he couldn’t get over.

“Well,” Charlie said, “maybe you need to let go of that idea. You can’t just _annoy_ him into dating you, as charming as your _very subtle_ flirting is.”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled.

“And maybe try to get to know him instead of constantly flirting with him.”

And because no other approach had worked so far, Dean humbly took Charlie’s advice. He had to reel in his… (iceberg-sized crush? Interest? Intent to mate Castiel for life?) attempts at flirting and give Castiel some space. And maybe in the meantime, try and befriend the strangely interesting Alpha.


	3. can't you tell

At the end of the first semester, it turned out that Castiel’s instincts had been right – it was impossible to get rid of Dean Winchester. Once he had started to notice Dean, he saw Dean everywhere he went. And to complicate matters, Castiel was really becoming friends with Charlie, and didn’t want to push her away just because it meant having to deal with Dean and his twinkling green eyes and crooked smile. If not for his teasing, Castiel might have taken Dean’s (annoyingly pretty) smiles as genuine.

But it was impossible to overlook the smirks and subtle digs even when coupled with that charming smile – which was clearly a carefully planned trap as well. And yet, Castiel couldn’t help but grit his teeth and endure it when Dean sat down to eat with him and Charlie yet again. Dean had joined them a few times during the past weeks, but Castiel had hoped now that the end of the period was drawing close and they were all busy studying for the exams, Dean wouldn’t have time to track Castiel down.

No such luck, it seemed.

“Hiya, Charles,” Dean greeted, and then plopped right next to Castiel, even if there was a perfectly good seat available on Charlie’s side of the table. “Hi, Cas.”

“It’s Castiel,” he corrected, tired. Charlie gave him a surprised look, but said nothing.

Dean groaned. “What do I gotta do to earn the nickname privileges, seriously? Take you out to eat?”

“Hardly,” Castiel growled.

“What if I offered pizza? You can’t say no to that, right?”

“No.” Seeing Dean’s grin, Castiel continued, “See how easy that was?”

“But it’s pizza,” Dean said, looking confused as to why anyone would refuse that. “Who says no to free pizza? Or wait, don’t tell me you’re one of those freaks with a vendetta against pineapple on a pizza, because in that case, I take it back. No pizza for you.”

“Then I guess it’s no pizza for me,” Castiel said, annoyed by the conversation already.

“Hating on pineapple? Really?” Dean grimaced. “How can you dislike pineapples? I don’t eat a lot of fruits, but at least I can recognize when something tastes good.”

“Because it tastes too sweet,” Castiel said, tired of the same conversation. He thought they’d gone over this when Dean had first mocked his choice of lunch and then taunted him by making Castel taste his own lunch, even after Castiel had very plainly explained that he couldn’t smell nor taste whatever Dean was making him eat. In truth, Castiel _did_ have a sense of taste, although it was different from everyone else, as he’d found; he could identify the basic tastes, but without looking at what he was eating, he had no idea what was in his mouth.

Which was why it had been so humiliating to taste whatever Dean had forced down his throat last time. The slimy piece could’ve been anything, and Castiel had just been lucky it had been plain old mac and cheese. (Which was still disgusting.)

“Well, yeah, that’s the point, it enhances the flavor!”

“I really wouldn’t know,” Castiel muttered. “I can’t taste anything else if there’s pineapple on my pizza.”

“Not that you two aren’t a riot, but why don’t I get the same offer? Or can I top that? Pizza in exchange for weird stories?” Charlie asked.

“Not gonna work, Charlie. You’ve already told me every weird story you have,” Dean quipped. “Cas here is uncharted ground.”

He batted his eyelashes at Castiel again, and Castiel had to look down at his sandwich in order to stop himself for saying something stupid, again.

The worst thing about the situation was, Dean wasn’t unattractive. Castiel may not have a sense of smell, but he had two working eyes and a brain, and he could easily see how Dean’s green eyes, light-brown hair, topped off with a dust of freckles and a nicely shaped body (with a very nice butt, if Castiel let himself indulge) could be construed as handsome.

But to Castiel, attraction had always been based more on the person themselves – their character, their likes and dislikes, their whole personality – which brought his small, budding attraction to a halt when it came to Dean. Despite his handsome face, Dean was a bully. A handsome Alpha bully, but a bully nonetheless.

The strange thing was, Dean didn’t seem like a bully. To his friends, Dean seemed to be perfectly pleasant. Castiel regularly saw him nuzzle and hug Charlie, arm-wrestle with Benny, laugh along with Andrea’s jokes, and even sometimes helping fellow classmates in the library with their homework. To others, Dean seemed to be perfectly nice.

It was only Castiel he had an issue with and was constantly mocking.

“PB and J, again?” Dean asked, looking at Castiel’s poor excuse for a lunch. “Does it really taste that good?”

“No,” Castiel said, tired of the same joke, but unwilling to explain to Dean that he liked the texture, since it reminded him of home. “It tastes like molecules.”

Dean snickered at that, and Castiel frowned into his sandwich. Just because his sense of taste was different from everyone else’s gave Dean no right to laugh about that.

“So, Dean, have you started on that English essay yet?” Charlie asked, thankfully shifting the attention away from Castiel.

“Urgh, don’t remind me,” Dean groaned. “I have nothing to say on any of Jane Austen’s novels. Why’d I even take that class?”

“You need to know the greatest writer of all time,” Charlie argued. “And hey, if everything else fails, just re-use that essay you wrote last year.”

“You wrote an essay on Jane Austen’s novels?” Castiel asked, unable to contain his surprise. Most boys – especially Alphas – seemed to take issue with “girly” literature, somehow ignoring that several authors of “girly” books were Alphas as well. It made little sense to Castiel, but he was surprised that Dean of all people would openly admit to reading her books.

“Yeah, in high school,” Dean said. He smiled, and Castiel swallowed with difficulty. “Compared the adaptations of _Pride and Prejudice_ to each other and how they stacked up against the original text.”

“Well, that’s…” Castiel couldn’t think of a word, because Dean’s little grin was taking all of his concentration. “Admirable,” he finally settled on.

“Yeah?” Dean breathed, still looking at Castiel. Castiel felt suddenly uncomfortable under that stare, and had to look down to his lunch. “I mean, it wasn’t anything special, but at least the idea was neat.”

“Stop negging yourself, Dean,” Charlie said, startling Castiel and Dean both. Castiel flushed; he’d momentarily forgotten that Charlie was there, too. “It was a great essay. Anything you write for Lit classes is. Because you, you know, care about that.”

“Maybe you should consider majoring in that, then?” Castiel said, surprisingly caught up in the conversation.

“Maybe I should,” Dean said, thinking for a moment. “Hey, if nothing else, I’d learn some new romantic poems I could read to someone. Or teach someone. How about it, pre-med?”

He was looking intently at Castiel when he said this, and Castiel sighed. There went the nice moment they’d managed to have – crushed by Dean’s childish impulse to mock Castiel again. As if Castiel didn’t know very well that he was off-putting and strange, and would remain alone until the end of his days. There was no need for Dean to rub it in.

“I’m going to class,” Castiel muttered. He swallowed the rest of his lunch and stood, without waiting for Charlie or Dean. There was still time until the start of the lesson, but he’d lost his appetite.

“Oh,” Dean said, almost as if he was sorry. Castiel didn’t look at him.

“I’ll catch up with you, Cas!” Charlie said, starting to hurry her lunch along.

“Smell ya later, Cas!” Dean called after him.

“Don’t call me that,” Castiel muttered, even if it was futile. Dean would always call him that.

 

* * *

 

With the start of the next period and new classes, Castiel thought that he’d adapted quite well to his new predicament. He and Charlie still shared classes – more English, to their dismay, but at least they’d suffer together – and Castiel had resigned himself to the fact that he would share Chemistry with Dean, too. Despite the discussion that had hinted that Dean might finally major in English, he showed up to Castiel’s next Chemistry class with a huge grin and immediately parked himself next to Castiel, and got assigned as Castiel’s lab partner for rest of the year.

So, all in all, Castiel wasn’t doing a very good job of avoiding Dean, and his infuriatingly good-looking face or charming smile, not to mention his mean jabs against Castiel’s chosen major or his friendlessness. But Castiel had at least started to adjust to the thought that if he was friends with Charlie, he needed to get used to Dean’s proximity. He only saw Benny and Andrea very occasionally in the library, and never talked to them, so avoiding them was a piece of cake.

Dean, however, refused to be a piece of cake.

“Hey, Cas, wait up!” Dean called, once again after Chemistry. Castiel sighed and slowed his steps so that Dean could catch up to him. Not that he’d been trying to get away that hard. Almost against his will, he’d found that he liked Dean’s company – at least fifty percent of the time, when Dean was actually being civil and he could enjoy Dean’s smiles. Other times, it took all of his concentration not to go into Alpha-rage and stomp off, especially when Dean did his best to insult Castiel’s inability to smell and his lack of masculinity, or whatever those strange attempts at flirting were trying to convey.

“What?” Castiel asked, when Dean had caught up to him, and was just staring at him now.

“I like your beanie,” Dean said. Castiel glanced at Dean, suspicious, but there didn’t seem to be anything malicious about the comment. Dean simply seemed to like the design of the hat. At the start of October, the temperatures had dropped, prompting Castiel to wear something warmer. Dean, however, wasn’t wearing a hat or scarf – those might’ve been an insult to his Alphaness, apparently.

“Thank you,” Castiel said, still somewhat warily. “I made it myself.”

“You made that?” Dean exclaimed, and Castiel felt his hackles rise. He’d been called “weird” and “un-Alpha-like” before, whenever people realized that he made most of his outerwear himself. Castiel never bothered to argue with them – if people were small-minded enough to think that it was unbecoming of an Alpha to knit, he wouldn’t deign to even try and change their minds – but even after many weeks, the negative attention from Dean felt somehow…uncomfortable. Like it mattered more than it should have.

But Dean didn’t scoff at Castiel. Instead, he grinned and said, “Neat. I wish I could knit that well.”

Castiel hadn’t been expecting that, and slowly, he blinked. “You knit too?”

“Nah. Not really. Tried it some time, but it’s too complicated for me.” Castiel felt strangely caught up in Dean’s smile, and had to tear his eyes away from the sight. “Besides, it takes too much time. If I make clothes, I wanna wear them right away. And I can’t design for shit. I can mend stuff, but that’s it.”

Castiel didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but finding another Alpha who was willing to talk about crafts and knitting, of all things, wasn’t high on that list.

“That’s, um, a valuable skill,” Castiel said, clumsily.

“Kind of had to learn,” Dean said with a shrug. “Not much money for clothes, and not a lot of them. And Sammy – my brother – was a menace, always getting caught in something and tearing ‘em up.”

Castiel hesitated, unbidden curiosity bubbling under his skin, but then decided against it. Dean filled in the silence by answering his unasked question.

“No mom to do that,” Dean said, quietly. “Died when Sammy was born.”

“Oh, I’m…sorry.” Castiel hesitated, and then added, “My mom passed away when I was little, too.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it,” Dean said, clearly as uncomfortable as Castiel with the tender atmosphere they’d suddenly hurled into.

“Yeah,” Castiel muttered.

“Hey, are you coming to the Halloween party?” Dean asked then, switching gears.

Castiel started. “What party?”

“Benny’s having a party,” Dean said. “Charlie will be there. And Andrea. And oh, you haven’t met Garth! He’s my roommate. He’s a little strange, but a good guy. I think you’d get along.”

Dean was babbling more than usual, glancing at him all the while, and while Castiel found his enthusiasm adorable, an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach.

“I’m not invited,” Castiel said.

“Well, you are, now,” Dean said, waving his hand.

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t not come!” Dean said. “Charlie will drag you there, anyway. Just say yes to save time.”

Castiel was uncomfortably reminded of all the times he’d been “invited” to a party in high school, or middle school, and then just found himself being the laughingstock, when the door was shut in his face – as if anyone would really want to hang out with the freak. As if anyone would really want to invite him anywhere.

He wasn’t about to make the same mistake, no matter how charming Dean’s smile was. There was a fifty per cent probability that it was a trap, anyway.

“I don’t know,” Castiel said. “I don’t think so.”

Dean looked disappointed at that, but Castiel wasn’t going to change his mind. Even if Dean had been increasingly civil lately, it was Benny’s party, and Castiel trusted Dean’s seeming generosity more than Benny’s.

But Dean gathered himself quickly, and said, “Well, I’m looking forward to this party, anyway. Dad never let me go anywhere when I still lived at home.”

Castiel found that hard to believe, but didn’t voice that thought. He raised his brows at Dean, though, so he kept talking.

“He was always worried I’d do something stupid and end up as a teenage parent.” Dean scoffed. “As if I’d do something like that. But, well, to him, all parties were a waste of time and potential threats of me behaving like a harlot, so no having fun. I think he’d still prefer if I were under lock and key,” Dean said, with a surprising amount of venom in his voice.

“I know that feeling,” Castiel said. “My Omega dad almost didn’t let me move out here for college, and he lives an hour away,” Castiel confessed, and immediately regretted that. He didn’t know what it was, but something about Dean made him voice thoughts that he would have kept secret otherwise. It was annoying, because half the time, he was still certain Dean would react by making fun of him, and other half, he just wanted the ground to swallow him for saying something so stupid.

Dean didn’t laugh at him this time. Instead, his eyes bugged, and he asked,

“Is that why you dislike Omegas so much? Because of daddy issues?”

That, Castiel hadn’t been expecting. Flabbergasted, he could only ask, “What? I—I don’t—Have I ever behaved like I dislike Omegas? Did Charlie say something? Did I make her somehow uncomfortable?”

Dean flushed. “No, she—I mean, I only thought ‘cause you—never mind, it was stupid, uh… gonna shut up now, before I say something even stupider.”

“I hope I haven’t made her feel uncomfortable,” Castiel said, forgetting once again to consult his brain and voicing his secret thoughts to Dean before he could stop it. “She’s the first real friend I ever made here.”

“No, look, she said nothing, she _adores_ you, honestly. Who wouldn’t?” Dean grinned, and Castiel braced himself for the inevitable jab. He was disappointed to see this side of Dean flare up, since they had been having such a nice conversation so far. But all good things must come to an end, Castiel supposed.

“I adore you too, you know,” Dean said, complete with batting his eyelashes at Castiel.

He sighed. “That gets old after a while, Dean,” Castiel said. He picked up his step, trying to shake off the disappointment.

“Hey, wait up, Cas!”

“I’m going to library. I have to study,” Castiel snapped, feeling petty.

“Well, uh, smell you later, then? At the party?”

Castiel didn’t answer. He was fairly certain that Dean could smell the way he winced at those words, but he was too proud to turn back and look.

 

* * *

 

A week later, Castiel found out that Dean had actually been sincere in his invite. Charlie really did drag him by the arm to a Halloween party at Benny’s fraternity house. Castiel was very uncomfortable at being there, but his tension lessened somewhat when he observed the crowd. He saw many people from the same classes he attended, and most of them were cordial with him, although not friendly. Benny and Andrea both greeted him and Charlie with friendly smiles (and hugs for Charlie), and Benny seemed to have forgotten his earlier vendetta against Castiel, because he even clasped Castiel’s shoulder and remarked that it was nice to see him outside of library, for once. Castiel didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t.

And, of course, where was Charlie, there was also Dean. Castiel had been bracing himself for the possibility of encountering Dean ever since Charlie had stormed into his dorm and told him in no uncertain terms that they _were_ going to this party, whether Castiel liked it or not. After their last discussion, Castiel felt like he was on an even shakier ground with Dean than ever before, and he didn’t know what to do about that.

Dean had obviously arrived earlier, because he was holding a paper cup in his hands and was already looking a little flushed. He stomped down the stairs when he noticed Charlie and hugged her eagerly in greeting, and then turned to Castiel with a huge grin on his face.

 _Drunk!Dean:_  


“Hey, Cas! Glad you came!”

“Don’t call me that,” Castiel said, tired of the argument.

Dean’s smile didn’t even falter. He offered Castiel his paper cup, sloshing the red liquid.

“Want to have a taste?”

“I really can’t,” Castiel said, taking a step back. Dean just kept smiling at him, and Castiel felt slightly disappointed though not surprised that Dean kept bringing up his inability to taste. “What is that, anyway?”

“Dunno,” Dean said, taking another sip. “Except it tastes good.”

“So it’s probably not alcohol. All alcohol tastes foul,” Charlie remarked. “And you’re not as drunk as you appear to be.”

“Probably,” Dean said. “I should get more of this. Drunken courage, and all that. Maybe I’d get a date then.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. What on earth was Dean talking about?

“Okay, um,” Dean said, looking more sheepish now. “I’m gonna go talk to Benny. See you around.”

“I’ll come and find you!” Charlie yelled after him. Castiel said nothing, only watched as Dean started to wade through the group, until Charlie snatched his arm and turned him around.

“What was that?” Charlie asked him.

“What?”

“That!” She gestured at Dean’s retreating back, then at Castiel, and the put her hands on her hips.

“Look, I don’t even wanna know why you insist on having this weird tension between you two—” _Understatement_ , Castiel thought but didn’t say, “but maybe you should cut Dean some slack? He’s a really good guy, despite his dubious eating habits and strange favorites in TV shows. Like, I love him to death and I don’t want to discuss another season of Doctor Sexy MD – fifteen seasons of that, good grief, who greenlighted that garbage in the first place – where was I going with this…?”

“Charlie,” Castiel sighed, “it’s not that. I just…” Castiel didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t continue the sentence. Charlie took one look at him, and then, deflated, removed her hands from her hips and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I know he behaves like an idiot around you, Cas, trust me, _I know_. I’ve seen this before…though maybe not as extreme.” Charlie sighed. “Just give him a chance, he’s a good bean. When he’s not being an ass.” Charlie smiled. “Just ask Garth, his roommate. They’re like… I don’t know, oil and water, and still they get along. They roomed together last year, too.”

Garth, who Castiel had never met once before and who Castiel didn’t think would be down to gossip about his roommate, turned out to be a very generous talker. And he didn’t need much prompting, if at all, to spill all the secrets about Dean Winchester.

For example, his most annoying quality as a roommate was that he constantly cleaned. He sometimes read so late at night that he fell asleep with the book still in his lap and the bedside lamp on, and he preferred pen and paper when he took notes and studied, which meant that there were post-it notes everywhere. He blasted his music too loud, but always turned it off when asked, and whenever Garth had his heat (something that took Castiel by surprise, since he hadn’t realized Garth was an Omega when Charlie introduced them), Dean was at his beck and call, ready to fetch painkillers or alleviate his mood swings by serving as a punching bag. Dean loved to cook, though he didn’t often get a chance to do it, and often gave Garth his leftovers if he’d been out to eat.

Frankly, Dean sounded like an amazing roommate, and reminded a little too much of Castiel himself. It only soured Castiel’s mood.

“…and sometimes, he even makes brunch!” Garth finished the long talk. They were seated on a couch, observing all the excitement and dancing and drunken shenanigans that went on in the living room. Castiel had a cup full of punch in his hands, though he had only been sipping it, and Garth, while he had already had at least three cups, seemed like the type that was consistently drunk, even without the aid of alcohol.

Castiel didn’t know how to react at first. He hadn’t expected such high praise, even if he had already witnessed how kindly Dean could treat his friends.

Well, friends. Just not Castiel.

Castiel squeezed his paper cup a little too tightly. “That’s…really good of him.”

“Well, yeah! He’s awesome, actually. Willing to put up with my shit. I mean, I almost never do the dishes, I hate doing that, but he never complains. Probably because I do the dusting.”

“That’s a nice arrangement,” Castiel conceded. “And good of him to defy gender roles.”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s not really about…” Then Garth frowned. “Wait, what do you mean, exactly?”

“Well, it’s not traditional for an Alpha and Omega to share a room, is it?” Castiel asked, frowning back.

“But we’re both Omegas,” Garth said, confused.

“Oh,” Castiel said, stupidly, and the world tilted on its axis.

 _Oh_. Dean wasn’t an Alpha trying to mock Castiel as another Alpha for his perceived lack of masculinity.

Instead, Dean was an Omega…needling Castiel about what he could never have, never be good enough for.

It didn’t make Castiel feel exactly better, but it did put a lot of things in focus.

“You really didn’t know?” Garth asked, laughing a little. “Man, that’s hilarious! Dean, an Alpha? No way, he’d be offended if he ever heard you say that. Sure, I guess if you look at how he dresses, but that’s just because of…” Garth suddenly shut his mouth. “Eh, actually, that’s not my business to tell. But anyway, he’s an Omega, and proud of that. He’s a fellow member in the university O club, too!”

So many things that had made sense to Castiel prior to tonight now didn’t, and things that hadn’t made sense suddenly did. Castiel almost couldn’t keep up.

“Then why on earth would he keep asking me out?” Castiel asked, quietly.

But before Garth could get over his bafflement and answer that, someone sat on his other side on the couch, and his attention was already elsewhere.

 

* * *

 

Following the Halloween party, there was a quiet lull on the campus. Charlie didn’t attend their first class because she was ‘sleeping in’ (although the several emojis following that sentence assured Castiel that no actual sleeping was happening, even if she was in bed), so Castiel walked to the next class alone. On his way there, he spotted Dean walking ahead of him in the hallway, very slowly. Although Dean looked like he was nursing a headache as well, he was still courageously staggering towards the Chemistry class.

“Dean,” Castiel said, but when Dean turned around to face him, Castiel suddenly didn’t know what to say. Dean seemed just as stunned that Castiel had called out for him, as their interactions had always started with Dean seeking Castiel out.

“Um,” Dean said, “hi?”

“Hi,” Castiel said, trying to gather himself. “Uh, you don’t look like you slept well.”

“Mistakes were made,” Dean groaned. “There might’ve been more alcohol in that punch than Charlie said there was.”

“How much did you have?”

“Just seven cups, relax, daddy,” Dean said. Then he flushed when he realized what he’d just said, and Castiel couldn’t help but laugh. Apparently, Dean had even less of a filter while he was hung over.

“I’m never drinking again,” Dean groaned, then cursed something under his breath. “Sheesh.”

“No, that’s okay, _boy_ ,” Castiel said. Dean blinked several times, and muttered something about “still being drunk.”

“Um, are you going to Chemistry?” Castiel asked, then almost slapped himself, because, obviously, Dean was headed there. “Want to walk together?”

“Sure,” Dean said, looking at Castiel like he’d just grown two heads.

They walked forward in silence, and while it wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, it wasn’t comfortable, either. Castiel didn’t really know what he was doing – he still couldn’t get a read on what Dean meant by their interactions, and Dean was unusually quiet.

“Hey, look, there’s something I wanted to say,” Dean said then, rushing the words out. “You know, a few weeks ago, when I asked if you were…”

“An Alpha, yes, I remember,” Castiel said, grimacing a little. But as the undisputed king of confusing sub-genders, Castiel couldn’t really throw stones here.

“Look, I’m sorry I asked it like that, and misgendering you – I should know better than to assign genders based on smell alone, I mean…” Dean looked truly sorry, having trouble looking Castiel in the eye. “You say you’re an Alpha, you’re one. I mean, I don’t smell like a typical Omega, either, and, well…”

“I never noticed,” Castiel said, awkwardly, because it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t wholly true, either. At the very least, he’d never noticed any of Dean’s friends acting differently around him, or dancing around his pronouns. As far as Castiel knew, everyone (except him, of course) had known Dean was an Omega from the very beginning.

Dean cleared his throat. “So, hey, um, wanna go get a coffee after this? Not that you look like you need it, but I really need a cure for this headache. Or we could, um, hang around in my dorm, or…”

Dean was smiling, tentatively, and although he tried, Castiel couldn’t see any signs of deceit on Dean’s face. Maybe he _was_ really asking Castiel out for coffee…as friends, to cure his hangover. ‘Hang around’ in Castiel’s experience usually meant just that -- hang around and talk.

As friends.

Because even if Dean was a very handsome Omega, he was still so far out of Castiel’s league that it wasn’t even funny. Spiteful, friendless, freaky Castiel, who couldn’t even tell what was going on half the time, because he _always_ read the signs wrong.

“Um,” Castiel said. “Coffee sounds good?”

But despite his hesitations, Castiel didn’t doubt that the smile on Dean’s face was sincere.


	4. i'm scared as well

The coffee shop Dean led Castiel into was a ten-minute walk from the campus, situated in between a bakery and, hilariously, a funeral home. Castiel eyed the combination with suspicion, and when Dean noticed that, he laughed and commented, “Full service, right? Make the arrangements to bury your grandma, and then you can cry into a good cup of coffee and a brownie.”

“The coffee should be heavenly, then,” Castiel said. Dean stared at him for a second before breaking into giggles. Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little proud at that – he hadn’t even been trying to be funny.

However, the coffee shop wasn’t named after any death or heaven-related pun, and instead it was, as Dean pointed out, “The winner of the most awful ripoff of Starbucks.” Despite its unfortunate name, _Moondoes_ was actually a very inviting place, with its comfortable sitting booths and light streaming inside from the large windows.

“Notice anything, Cas?” Dean asked. He looked much more alive now, even if he’d been nodding off so much during the Chemistry class that Castiel had had to snatch the Erlenmeyer flask from Dean’s shaking hands before he dropped it to the ground.

“What?” Castiel asked, blinking at Dean’s sudden enthusiasm.

“The smell of coffee, Cas! It’s nice, isn’t it? Totally worth the walk.”

Castiel felt something dark and heavy plummet into his stomach. He’d thought that Dean would’ve gotten over this stupid joke, but apparently not.

He sighed. “I don’t smell anything.”

Dean just waved his hand at him. “I’ll make a believer out of you yet.”

Castiel didn’t have any opinions on what brand of coffee or type of drink he should have gotten from the menu, and since Dean’s enthusiasm made Castiel’s heart grudgingly skip a beat, he let Dean choose the drinks. After paying for their drinks, they took a booth by the window, waiting for a few moments before a waiter brought their coffees to them. They’d fallen into a silence, Dean looking like he was going to nod off again, but he perked up after a few sips from his cup. Castiel didn’t like the bitter taste all that much, but he did appreciate the caffeine after a night barely slept.

“So where did you go at the party?” Dean asked then. “I didn’t see you much.”

“Oh.” Castiel put his cup down, momentarily distracted by Dean’s heavy gaze. “I spent a lot of time talking with Garth. Charlie introduced us.”

Dean brightened up at that. “Garth’s a good dude. A little weird, but good.”

“So I gathered,” Castiel said. He smiled at the memory, and added, “He tried to convince me that humans evolved from wolves. Although he was pretty drunk at that point.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, but he does that sober, too, I don’t know what’s up with that. He’s obsessed with werewolves.”

They kept talking about the party for a while longer, comparing notes. Castiel didn’t know half the people Dean mentioned and was apparently friends with, but the little twinge in his chest quieted with the way Dean kept looking at him, smiling at him, and telling Castiel about all the shenanigans he and his friends had gotten up to. He couldn’t help but feel light, caught up in the moment, and _happy_ , even as Dean was talking about a bet that ended up with Benny wearing a tutu to baseball practice (and wasn’t that an image that he had never wanted in his head).

Maybe they were really becoming friends, after all this time. Or maybe they already were, and Castiel had been just stubbornly denying that.

A brunette girl in a green apron walked past them, bringing the couple in the table behind them their drinks. Castiel wouldn’t have even noticed her otherwise, but on her way back to the till, she suddenly stopped by their table, turning towards Dean with huge eyes.

“Dean?” she asked.

“Lisa,” Dean said. He seemed confused for a moment, frozen in place, until a huge grin broke out on his face and he stood up to hug her. “How the hell are you? I didn’t know you worked here!”

“I started here just a few weeks ago, don’t worry. Long time no see, Dean,” Lisa said, hugging back just as tightly. “I haven’t seen you in so long, I was afraid you’d dropped out.”

“Hey, I’d never do that,” Dean said, finally letting go of her. Castiel noticed how Lisa’s hands lingered, sliding down Dean’s arms in such an intimate way that it made Castiel nearly wince.

“You complained so much about Professor Crowley that I was afraid he got the best of you. That, or you finally snapped and murdered him,” Lisa said with a smile.

“You have no proof about any such plans. Absolutely no proof at all,” Dean answered with a similar smile. In fact, the smile was so gentle that Castiel felt like someone had just kicked him the chest.

“Uh huh,” Lisa said, the corner of her mouth twitching. “And I absolutely don’t have any post-it notes in your handwriting stuck at the foot of my bed. Absolutely no proof at all.”

Castiel felt something twist his stomach. Those two were sharing some old inside joke, some old history between them, something that he wasn’t privy to, or even invited to ask about. Castiel turned his gaze towards his coffee cup and tried to ignore everything around him. At least the scorching hot liquid gave him something else to think about.

“So, uh, you’re still with that Alpha…Matt, was it?” Dean asked then. Castiel tried not to listen to the conversation, but it was impossible not to.

“Well, it’s complicated, but…” Lisa said. She glanced towards Castiel, but so briefly that Castiel understood that he still wasn’t invited into the conversation, and that she didn’t want to share whatever she wanted to tell Dean in front of Castiel. She shrugged. “Scent-locked, you know?”

“I think I know the feeling,” Dean said. They shared another look, one that Castiel had no idea what it was meant to convey.

“I need to get back to work now, but don’t be a stranger,” Lisa said. She let her hand fall on Dean’s shoulder, beautifully manicured fingernails curling into the fabric of his jacket. Castiel couldn’t tear his eyes away from the awful sight. “I mean it, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, with another gentle smile. “Okay. I’ll call you later, okay? This evening sound good?”

“Yeah, that works, I end my shift at five,” Lisa said. She gave Castiel a small glance, and then looked back at Dean. “You two behave yourselves here.”

“I always behave myself,” Dean protested, which made Lisa chuckle.

“With the right prompting, you just might,” she said, winking at him. Dean bit his lip, and Castiel got caught looking at the sight of that rather than listen what Lisa said to Dean before walking away. He felt still a little dazed when Dean sat down at the table. Although in his defense, Dean looked a little dazed himself.

“So, uh,” Dean said. He didn’t seem to know what to say, so Castiel jumped to the chance.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Castiel said swiftly. He didn’t particularly want to hear about Dean’s affair with Lisa, or what sort of love triangle there was going on between them and Lisa’s Alpha Matt.

“Okay,” Dean said, looking a little relieved. “How’re you liking your coffee?”

“It’s…fine,” Castiel said.

“You don’t look so sure.”

“I actually prefer tea,” Castiel said. “It’s not so bitter.”

Dean blinked at him again, then smiled hesitantly. “Thanks for coming with me, then.”

“Sure,” Castiel said. He swallowed around the block in his throat, and buried his confusion into the bitterness of coffee.

 

* * *

 

Things settled after that. Dean was still – unfortunately for Castiel’s powers of concentration – his lab partner, and still regularly crashed his and Charlie’s lunch dates, although nowadays, Charlie tended to spend most of her lunches in the company of someone called Dorothy who she had hit it off with in the Halloween party. It almost seemed like Charlie spent most of her days in a completely different world, head in the clouds, but Castiel couldn’t really blame her. If only he could do the same.

Dean also had tried to ask Castiel to accompany him to the coffee shop more often, but Castiel really didn’t want to see Dean flirt with Lisa any more, so he declined. Surprising Castiel, one morning Dean showed up to Chemistry class with two cups of take-away coffee, sliding one to Castiel.

“You woke up early to go get coffee?” Castiel asked, eyeing the cup.  The coffee tasted more bitter than normal on his tongue when he sipped it, although it might’ve just because Dean’s cup had something written on it – it looked like a phone number, and Castiel tried not to inspect it too closely.

“Well, yeah, good coffee is essential,” Dean said, taking a gulp of his. “And hey, gotta do my part in supporting local businesses.”

“I suppose,” Castiel said. “Or at least in supporting good coffee.”

“Heh, yeah,” Dean said, giving a little laugh. He stared at his coffee cup intently, then raised his eyes to stare into Castiel’s. Castiel was surprised by the eye contact, but didn’t drop his gaze.

“So, uh, would you ever wanna go back there?” Dean asked then, still looking keenly into Castiel’s eyes.

Castiel thought of the way Lisa’s fingers had slid on Dean’s shoulder and the number on Dean’s coffee cup, and said, “Not really.”

Dean looked away and sighed, but Castiel couldn’t think of why. Dean could get anyone to accompany him to the coffee shop if he wished – and he probably should have gone alone if he wanted to talk to Lisa, anyway.

Two days later at lunch, Dean brought a homemade meal with him. Castiel hadn’t been expecting Dean to show up at all, although Dean usually did appear at the most inconvenient times, whenever Castiel wasn’t expecting it, but this time, he’d really thought that Dean would skip lunch. He’d said something about going home to eat, after all. Instead, Dean dumped a huge container of salad in front of Castiel – chicken, from the looks of it.

“You need to eat something else than those damn PB and J’s, that’s pathetic,” Dean said. Castiel would have protested, but Dean had already confiscated his sandwich and opened the container. “Come on, dig in. There’s more than enough for you, too.”

Castiel blinked at Dean, not really understanding this newfound enthusiasm to feed Castiel, but since the offer was vastly different from the last time Dean had insisted Castiel try his cooking, Castiel accepted it. Dean seemed genuine in his interest this time.

“Since when have you started making salads?” Castiel asked, after they’d been eating a while in silence.

“Hey, it’s got meat in it,” Dean protested, pointing at the pieces of chicken. “And maybe a certain pre-med I know lectured me enough about saturated fats and whatever, so I decided to try it.”

“That’s…” Castiel didn’t know what to say, because he really hadn’t thought Dean had listened to anything he said during lunch. Their eyes met over the container, and Castiel couldn’t help but smile. Dean smiled back, tentatively, and then went back to eating.

“This is actually pretty good, for a salad,” Dean joked then. “Who would’ve thought?”

“It is good,” Castiel said, although he clearly enjoyed the texture of the salad more than Dean. “When did you have time to do this?”

“This morning. I, uh, my dorm actually has a real kitchen, believe it or not. So if you want to help out sometime…”

“I think I’d just be in the way,” Castiel said. He didn’t want to show Dean how he cooked: by following instructions to such a ridiculous degree that he’d always annoyed his dad with it. He couldn’t improvise meals, because he would season the dishes so strangely that no one else seemed to like it. And as fragile and confusing as his friendship with Dean was, Castiel really didn’t want to poison Dean with his cooking.

“Oh,” Dean said, smile fading. “Um. Okay.”

They continued to eat in silence, until Castiel started to talk about their upcoming Chemistry project, and Dean perked up at that.

On Friday, two days after Wednesday’s lunch, Dean had once again picked up coffee before their Chemistry class. Grateful for the wake-up, Castiel accepted his cup, and thought to himself that he really needed to pay Dean back for all the coffee – Dean had never even asked, and it was starting to feel very unbalanced between them.

It wasn’t until Castiel had sipped from his cup that he realized it wasn’t coffee. There was no bitter tingling on his tongue, just a nice feeling of warmth.

“Tea?” he asked, surprised, and turned to face Dean, who was silently nursing his own cup.

“Well, you said you prefer tea, so…” Dean shrugged. “It was the only black tea they had, sorry. Not much variety there.”

“That’s fine,” Castiel said, feeling warm inside, and it wasn’t because of the tea. “Thank you,” he said, giving Dean a smile, and Dean grinned back.

“So…” Dean leaned closer, and Castiel felt something tingle in his spine. Dean’s eyes seemed particularly green this morning. “How do you like the scent?”

“What?” Castiel blinked. He hadn’t expected a jab like that, after all this time, and turning away, he muttered into his cup, “Fine. It’s tea, after all.”

Dean’s shoulders drooped, and he turned back to his coffee. Before they could resume their conversation, the professor walked into the classroom, and they had to quickly finish their drinks, since the professor didn’t like anything extra on their desks.

The Chemistry class went by slowly as it usually did, but something about the way Dean wasn’t looking his way and wasn’t trying to amuse Castiel by writing silly Chemistry jokes in the margins of his notebook made it pass by even slower. Castiel frowned when he noticed this; they weren’t good friends, but Castiel would still notice when Dean wasn’t his usual self, and the way he was absent-mindedly stirring the experiment of the day clearly told Castiel that he was hardly concentrating on the lesson.

“Whatever you’re cooking in there, smells great, Winchester,” a boy sitting on their right said. “Or maybe it’s the cook,” the boy continued, winking.

Dean gave the boy a smile more resembling a grimace. “Yeah, thanks, Ketch.”

“Dean, watch out!” Castiel hissed, and snatched the bottle from Dean at the last second – the liquid had started to boil over the fire, and that wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Sorry,” Dean said, but he sounded distracted. Castiel gave him a worried look, but Dean avoided his eyes, and Castiel had to turn his attention back into saving their experiment.

Thankfully, the lesson ended with no accidents, even if it meant that Castiel had had to take over the work. Dean seemed to be in a hurry when he packed his bag, but Castiel managed to ask him if they’d meet up for lunch like usual. Charlie was coming there, as well, and since Castiel hadn’t seen her in a week, he looked forward to it.

Dean didn’t seem that enthused, though. He only said, “Yeah, sounds good,” gave Castiel a fleeting smile, and then disappeared into the crowd. Castiel raised his brows in confusion; they’d walked together to their next classes for as long as they’d been lab partners, and Dean had never ditched him before today.

But maybe he was in a hurry to his next class, Castiel surmised, pushing the nagging feeling from his mind.

 

* * *

 

Castiel supposed that since his sense of smell was nonexistent, he’d learned to compensate for that with his other senses. Sometimes he almost wished that he didn’t have that good of a hearing, because he’d more than once heard something that definitely wasn’t meant for his ears. But this time, he had no choice but to stop and listen when he heard Dean’s name being mentioned behind him. Sitting in his Biology class, this seemed odd, because he didn’t think anyone from his class knew Dean.

“Did you happen to notice Winchester today?” the boy sitting behind him asked another. Castiel tried to not pay attention and opened his textbook, but his ears perked up nonetheless. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who had thought Dean’s behavior this morning had been odd.

“The blond guy, sits in front in Chem?”

“Yeah. I mean, was it just me, or did he smell…”

“Better than usual?”

“Oh, thank god, I wasn’t mad to think that.”

The other boy laughed. “Believe me bro, you’re not. I mean, I don’t go for male Omegas, but damn, even I can admit he smelled delectable today.”

“Me neither, I’m straight as a ruler”—Castiel almost laughed at that, with the speed the guy rushed to protest told that he was nothing of the sort—”but shit, I could’ve taken him right there.”

The other boy chuckled again. “Easy, bro. It’s just perfume or some shit like that. Don’t go gay just yet.”

Castiel frowned, interested despite himself. Perfume? Why would Dean use perfume? Dean had never before indicated that he had scent gland problems.

“What, shit, really?”

“Yeah, I think I recognized the smell. Smelled nearly the same as my girl used to before we started dating.” The boy shrugged. “He must’ve someone he wants to woo. I’ve seen male Omegas sometimes do shit like that, make themselves more feminine, trying to fool people.” He snorted. “Won’t make me budge, though. Yuck. There’s still a dick under all that perfume and make-up crap.”

Castiel’s blood boiled, but he couldn’t say anything. He took comfort in the fact that the other boy gave a hollow laugh.

“Right, right… Hey, so did you start your essay just yet?”

The professor walked in to start the lecture then, and Castiel tried to focus on that instead. He couldn’t help but think of what he’d learned just now, though. Homophobic comments aside, there was logic in the assumption the boys had made: Dean was wearing perfume, and because he normally didn’t do so, he must’ve had a reason. He had someone he wanted to smell good for.

Not me, then, Castiel thought, bitterly. More likely, Dean had put the perfume on, because he’d gone to the coffee shop to meet Lisa before their class. He had seemed distracted enough; probably his head was filled with thoughts of her.

Castiel dropped the thought. He didn’t really want to think about Dean trying to seduce someone else.

 

* * *

 

When Dean didn’t show up for lunch, Castiel had a vague sense of wrongness. But when Charlie didn’t show up either, despite promising that yesterday, Castiel surmised that something must’ve happened. The group chat Charlie usually filled up with her commentary throughout the day had gone strangely quiet this morning, and Dean hadn’t showed up in the chat, either.

Castiel glanced at the clock – he had time for lunch, or he could spend that time trying to track Dean down and ask him what was wrong. And even if it was just morbid curiosity, Castiel wanted to know if Dean’s strangeness had anything to do with the perfume he was apparently wearing and the mystery person he was trying to woo. But then again…that was none of his business. He didn’t think they were such good friends with Dean that he could’ve handed out unwarranted relationship advice, not that Castiel knew anything about real relationships. Maybe he should just stay out of it. 

Castiel looked at his sad little PB and J sandwich, sighed, and then put it away and got up to investigate.

Castiel didn’t actually know where Dean’s dorm room was. His roommate Garth had babbled about everything else except where they actually lived, but Castiel thought that he could start at Charlie’s dorm, and she could point him in the right direction. If she was in, that was.

Castiel shot her a quick message asking where she’d gone to, but like he’d suspected, Charlie didn’t answer. Instead, Castiel made his way to Charlie’s dorm, thinking that he might as well start there.

The apartment complex was quiet, with most people out at classes, and Castiel quickly made his way to the second floor. To his surprise, Charlie’s dorm room door was left slightly ajar. From the inside came the low murmur of a conversation, and Castiel frowned when he recognized Dean’s voice, and then Charlie’s, although it took Castiel a second to recognize her, since she sounded so serious, her voice lower than usually. Castiel hesitated for a moment, not wanting to barge in on any private moment, but still worried about Dean.

“It’s no use, Charlie, he really doesn’t care,” Castiel heard Dean say then. His tone was so forlorn that Castiel felt his heart almost break at that. Dean’s absence was related to his mystery lover, then. “Every time I try to ask him, he just…ignores me. I’m giving up. He doesn’t want me.”

“You can’t really believe that, Dean,” Charlie said, and Castiel hesitated. Perhaps he should just close the door and walk away.

“What other explanation is there, Charles?” Dean asked. “We’ve been scent-locked for weeks!”

“Maybe he’s…um, waiting to ask your dad for permission?” Charlie tried to say, but she didn’t sound like she believed it, either.

“We’re not bonded, we’re scent-locked,” Dean said. “And as if my dad would ever—the point is, why else would he keep ignoring me?” Dean sighed. “The least he could do is tell me outright.”

“Maybe he’s shy?”

“Stop doing that, Charlie! We’re scent-locked, he’s done jack shit about it, so let’s be honest here, he clearly thinks I’m disgusting!” Dean snapped. Castiel’s heart lurched; it hurt to hear Dean sound like that, so down on himself.

“No one who’s ever smelled you would think that,” another voice joined the conversation – Benny, Castiel realized with a jolt.

“But I don’t smell like a real Omega, do I.” Dean said it with so much conviction, in such a resigned manner, that Castiel anticipated that any second now, Charlie or Benny would jump to contradict him and comfort Dean.

To his shock, only silence followed.

“Dean, you don’t need to smell like a typical Omega to be an Omega,” Charlie said then, cautiously.

“Cas clearly doesn’t think so,” Dean muttered. “I’m not a real Omega. Not good enough. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want me.”

Hearing his name mentioned sent Castiel in a spin. Suddenly, the earlier conversation he’d heard started to make sense, and all the pieces were falling in together.

“Then maybe,” Charlie said, sounding sad, “he doesn’t deserve you.”

“I don’t know, _cher_ ,” Benny said. “If he really thinks that, he’s not worth your time.” There was a short silence. “Just didn’t think him as the type to do that.”

Shocked to the core, Castiel could only stand there. He felt like a complete idiot, and for the first time, he honestly felt like he didn’t deserve Dean.

How could he have misread something this obvious – that Dean wasn’t being sarcastic, that he had meant every invitation and look? That Dean really wanted him? And maybe…if Dean assumed that Castiel could smell all the tension between them, maybe Castiel hadn’t been as clear in his explanation about his anosmia as he could have been.

It took a few seconds to re-route his brain, and then Castiel realized that he _really_ should step in to correct a few misconceptions, before things went from bad to worse.

He knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a reply before stepping in.

“Cas,” Charlie said, looking nervous. “I didn’t smell you there. Maybe this isn’t the best time—”

If Dean’s broken voice hadn’t done it, the sight of Dean sitting on Charlie’s bed, looking so dejected, his eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, made Castiel’s heart break all over again. Benny, sitting next to Dean, shot Castiel a dark look. Castiel didn’t flinch away from that – for letting things go this far, he probably deserved it.

“Actually, I think it’s the perfect time,” Castiel said. “I need to speak to Dean.”

Charlie and Benny exchanged looks, but Castiel ignored them. A painfully long heartbeat later, Dean lifted his eyes from the floor and gave Castiel a long, searching look, and whatever he saw was enough to convince him.

“Yeah, alright,” he said, clearly gathering himself.

“We’ll just…go, then,” Charlie said, awkwardly, and Castiel belatedly remembered that they were still in Charlie’s dorm room. Benny had already made his decision and was standing up from the bed, only stopping to shoot Dean a look, then a stern one at Castiel. He didn’t need to smell Benny in order to realize what that look was for, and simply nodded at Benny.

As if he ever wanted or would deliberately hurt Dean.

Charlie hovered, unsure, until Benny called her name, and then, reluctantly, she left.

The door snapped shut, and then there was silence.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel said.

“No need,” Dean muttered. “But you could’ve just let me know.”

“Dean, no, I think…” Castiel sighed. There was no good way to solve the stupid thread they’d gotten themselves tangled in, so Castiel started from the obvious. “I like you.”

Dean stared at him, uncomprehending, so Castiel started again, “I _really_ like you. But I…I didn’t know we were…scent-locked or…whatever that means.”

Dean frowned. “What?”

Castiel sighed. “Dean, I can’t smell anything.” He paused, but when Dean didn’t react, he continued, not wanting to assume anything from this point on, “I thought I told you about that. I have anosmia. I have never been able to smell _anything_.”

“You…” Dean paused. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“I wish,” Castiel muttered. “I mean it, Dean. I don’t smell anything.”

“But…you…” Dean seemed to re-evaluate their every interaction in his mind, just like Castiel had a moment ago, and then looked at Castiel with round eyes. “You mean, you really can’t smell _this_?” He pointed between them, and Castiel had to shake his head at that.

Dean stared at him with wonder in his eyes.

“So if you can’t smell me, does that mean you can’t tell anything about me?”

“Not…really? Depends on what you mean?”

“I mean my gender, or what I’m feeling, or, you know, the fact that we’re _scent-locked_ , the things people usually can sense,” Dean said.

“I can see just fine that you’re upset,” Castiel countered. “I can read body language just like anyone. But, uh, I don’t know what you mean by ‘scent-locked.’ And…I didn’t know you were an Omega until Garth pointed it out,” Castiel muttered, embarrassed. “I just thought you were an overcompensating Alpha.”

They stated at each other for a moment.

“You thought I was an Alpha,” Dean said. The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he was fighting a smile.

“I think we’re due for a long conversation about sub-genders and identities,” Castiel grumbled.

“Yeah, that too, but Cas…Even if you couldn’t smell my iceberg-sized crush on you, I asked you out so many times,” Dean said. He looked hurt when he added, “You always rejected me.”

“I thought…I thought you were mocking me,” Castiel confessed. Dean looked so shocked that it felt awful to go on, but Castiel continued, “That you were asking me out as a joke. Or that you were just…flaunting what I couldn’t have.”

“How could you ever think that I wouldn’t want you?” Dean cried.

“I think I was trying to explain it to myself the worst way,” Castiel said. “Even when confronted with evidence, I just…couldn’t believe it. Didn’t trust myself.” He gave a hollow smile. “Because how could someone like you ever be interested in me?”

“I…Cas.” Dean swallowed. “That’s really dumb of you.”

“Yes, well, I think I see it now,” Castiel said, finally with a little humor.

Another silence fell upon them, but this time it was far more comfortable than before. Dean was slightly smiling, and Castiel answered that.

“‘S still pretty weird to me,” Dean said. “You really like me? Even without scenting me?”

“I don’t need my nose to tell that I like you.” Castiel swallowed. “It’s been pretty annoying, actually, how much I like you. And how much you refuse to leave my mind. And how much I find myself wondering about you and your opinions and your wellbeing.”

Dean’s eyes brightened at that.

“That’s…that’s kind of flattering, really.”

“I don’t know about that,” Castiel hedged, “I’m guessing this, uh ‘scent-locked’ thing, is the same for you.”

Dean groaned a little. “Do I really have to explain that?”

“Well,” Castiel said, stepping closer, until he was standing in between Dean’s legs, their knees touching. Dean looked up at him, and Castiel thought that he rather liked the look. “If you wouldn’t mind. In as much detail as you can.”

“Uh, okay,” Dean said. He lifted his hands, and they slowly traveled to touch Castiel’s thighs, almost like without Dean’s permission. Castiel had nothing against the light touch. “It’s when two people really, really like each other…”

“Go on,” Castiel said, letting his fingers brush against Dean’s.

“And their bodies go, ‘you have some nice genes there, they’d look pretty neat when paired with mine,’” Dean said, breathlessly, and Castiel threaded their fingers together.

“Uh huh.”

“But if those two idiots don’t do anything about it, they’re locked in the situation, because their bodies are committed to this thing, even if their minds are not.”

“Hmm, doesn’t sound too terrible,” Castiel said. “I wouldn’t mind being locked in with you.”

Dean chuckled. “Cas, that was awful, just horrible. Don’t…don’t try to be funny. You’re really not.”

“I was trying to be sexy,” Castiel grumbled, and Dean’s eyes flashed.

“Yeah, okay, that works,” Dean said, and then his other hand had suddenly traveled all the way to Castiel’s neck and was insistently pulling him down. Castiel went willingly, smiling into the kiss. The angle was awkward, as Castiel was still standing up, but Castiel barely noticed the crick in his neck when there was the softness of Dean’s lips to consider.

Dean was enthusiastic and very thorough in his kissing, and Castiel got lost into it. He inched closer to Dean until his knees knocked against the bed, and from there, it was easy to just climb onto the bed and fall into Dean’s lap. Dean welcomed him with a happy sigh when Castiel settled into his lap, and they pulled each other as close as possible, becoming a tangle of limbs.

Castiel grinned into Dean’s skin when they overbalanced, and Dean fell onto his back, pulling Castiel with him. Neither had any objections about this position. Dean’s hands roamed around Castiel’s back, making Castiel shiver in delight, and wanting to discover every little thing there was about making Dean feel good, he pressed in close, putting small kisses all over Dean’s face. Dean let out a whimper, and pressed his nose right onto Castiel’s neck. Castiel didn’t get the same satisfaction from that as Dean obviously did, but scenting his neck seemed to placate something in Dean, so Castiel was more than happy let Dean do that.

Castiel would’ve been very happy to continue the kissing, preferably indefinitely, but in the back of his mind, he remembered that they still had things to discuss. Given what they’d gone though to get to this point, Castiel wasn’t going to let another misunderstanding halt their relationship before it even got off the ground.

“We really can’t do this,” Castiel said finally, pulling away from a kiss with difficulty, and before Dean’s expression dropped too much, he continued, “Charlie would never forgive us for defiling her bed.”

Dean burst into laughter. “You’re ridiculous, Cas,” he said, and this time, Castiel could see the statement for what it was – not sarcastic, not something subtle designed to hurt, just an open declaration, laced with adoration shining in Dean’s eyes.

Castiel couldn’t believe he’d missed out on all this. If this relationship with Dean failed because he was still just as dense as before, he really was moving to New Zealand to herd sheep.

“We really don’t have to do anything, though,” Dean said, although his hands were still roaming around Castiel’s back. He seemed to have trouble in stopping, fingertips curiously dipping into the arch of Castiel’s spine.

“Dean,” Castiel said, with a low rumble, “I’ve been wanting to jump your bones from the first moment I saw you. Unless you object, I really want to drag you to my apartment and do dirty, dirty things to you.”

Dean swallowed. “Sounds, sounds, uh, great to me. So, uh, quick trip to yours, then make out indefinitely?”

As tempting as that sounded, they had been gravely misunderstanding each other for weeks because they spent more time assuming things rather than discussing them.

“We really should discuss a few things first,” Castiel said, smiling when he noticed Dean leaning in when he leant back, trying to push his nose back into Castiel’s neck.

“Counterpoint: make out now, discussion later?” Dean said. His lips moved against Castiel’s neck as he talked, and the touch of them made Castiel shiver. He wanted to keep doing that, wanted to find out all the places he and Dean fit together, all the things they could do, but his mind was still nagging about being a rational adult and talking things through.

“Discussion now, make out later,” Castiel said, but made no move away when Dean leaned up to scent him again. He smiled when Dean let out a whine, obviously a subconscious one, because he flushed bright red after that. “Just a few things, and then I promise we’ll get back to that.”

“And those dirty, dirty things,” Dean said, almost giddy.

“Yes,” Castiel said, breathlessly, because Dean was still pressing his lips against Castiel’s neck and his fingers were still drawing figures onto his back and it was really, _really_ hard to concentrate on being a responsible adult when there was _Dean_ to consider.

“Sorry,” Dean said suddenly, drawing back from Castiel’s neck. His face was bright red. “You just smell so good.”

Castiel threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing you can’t scent me,” Dean mused, leaning his head into Castiel’s touch.

“Is that why you said…earlier… I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but before I came in, you were saying something about not smelling like—”

“A real Omega?” Dean filled in. “Um. Yeah. I mean, I know I’m an Omega,” Dean corrected, decisive. “It’s just other people who seem to have trouble with that. And maybe I’m not typical, since I smell a bit weird and I’ve a small knot, but—”

“You have a knot?” Castiel asked. The thought of that sent a warm shiver down his back – that this was something that he and Dean shared, could share.

Dean groaned, letting his head fall back into the pillows. Castiel’s fingers chased Dean’s face before Castiel had even decided to do that.

“This discussion is going great. I swear I don’t usually lead with that, but…yeah.” Dean looked afraid, like this would be the tipping point where Castiel left, and to ease Dean’s mind, Castiel slid his fingers down Dean’s face and caressed his temples. It worked, because Dean continued, “It’s a small one, though, most people don’t even notice it—”

“Show me?” Castiel asked, surprising himself when he heard the heat in his voice. It made Dean give a hesitant smile.

“Now?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Castiel corrected, already trying to take a step back. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Cas,” Dean said, closing the gap again and nosing Castiel’s collarbone. The gesture was slowly starting to drive Castiel wild. “You’re being too goddamn considerate for your own good. What happened to wanting to do dirty, dirty things with me?”

“Hasn’t gone anywhere,” Castiel quipped, and then he proceeded to show just how much he meant that by tilting Dean’s face up and capturing his lips in a kiss. Dean had no further objections, it seemed, because he answered the kiss and promptly pushed his fingertips under the hem of Castiel’s shirt. The touch of Dean’s fingers against his bare back was electrifying, and Castiel couldn’t help but grind against Dean. Dean let out a moan when their crotches touches, and it felt like Castiel wasn’t the only one growing very excited at the idea of touching more.

“You really like the thought of my knot, huh?” Dean asked then, a sly smile on his face.

“Mm-hmm,” Castiel could only say, continuing to kiss down Dean’s neck.

“How about, about that quick trip to your apartment for, ha—Cas!—a demonstration?”

“Excellent idea,” Castiel said, but made no effort to move away. He was busy kissing every inch of Dean he could, pushing the boundaries with Dean’s shirt as far as he could, because the t-shirt Dean was wearing didn’t have much give.

“Yeah, okay, screw that, this is a much better idea,” Dean breathed, lifting his feet and pushing them against Castiel’s thighs, then wrapping them around Castiel. Dean’s fingers were raking his back furiously, trying to pull him into movement. Castiel obeyed, lifting his hips and pushing them against Dean’s again, and the world seemed to shrink into the points where their bodies were touching.

“Take off my shirt,” Dean said, breath hitching. Castiel quickly slipped his fingers under the hem and pushed it up; Dean didn’t want to move from his position, but with a bit of wiggling, they managed to get his shirt off, and encouraged by that, Dean started to pull Castiel’s off as well. Castiel raised his brows at that, but smiled when he saw how red Dean’s cheeks were becoming, and helped Dean by lifting his arms and letting Dean pull the shirt off.

From there on, it was a frantic mess of kisses and exploratory touches everywhere they could reach, and Castiel would’ve been content at letting them stay in that stage forever, but before long, Dean got restless and pushed his hand between them, wiggling until he could reach his zipper. It took a few tries, because they both tried to intervene, but together, they managed to finally push down Dean’s boxers and jeans enough to reveal Dean’s cock.

Dean had gone quiet at this point, but before any doubts could enter his head, Castiel had already brought his hand to his cock, gently taking a hold of it. Dean’s breath hitched, and Castiel growled lowly when he heard that, letting out a sound he hadn’t even thought he was capable of.

Dean truly did have a knot. It was a small bump right where his cock began, nothing compared to Castiel’s, but Dean trashed and whined all the same when Castiel started to rub it. He slid his fingers along the bump, grinning when Dean gasped and tried to follow the movement, and then leaned back to where Castiel’s other hand was sneaking towards his ass.

No matter how nice his fingers on Dean’s knot felt, it seemed Dean was more interested in Castiel’s wandering fingers on his ass. The position was wrong for them to go any further, but Castiel couldn’t resist the sounds Dean was making every time his fingers wandered farther back, pressing against his taint, brushing against Dean’s hole. Castiel felt lightheaded, drunk on the sight of Dean and the sounds he was letting out.

“Cas—sheesh—you smell so good, how—” Dean gasped, attempting to press his nose back into the crook of Castiel’s neck again.

“Dean,” Castiel mumbled against Dean’s chest, the only thing his brain could concentrate on right now, besides the wonderful way Dean was reacting to him and how he was reacting to Dean and how good everything felt. His jeans felt awfully constricting now, the pressure against his cock almost painful, but Castiel didn’t stop to fumble them open. He had more important things to do.

“Press harder, Cas, right there—”

Castiel ground against the mattress, knocking against Dean’s knee, and pressed his fingers however Dean wanted them. Dean let out another wonderful sound, and Castiel let out his own, accompanying growl, and then suddenly, the oppressing heat and pressure of it was too much. Castiel came in his pants, something he hadn’t done in years, but it was all worth it when the price was seeing Dean trash in pleasure and the desperate moan of “Cas” he let out when he came as well. Castiel smiled, looking down at Dean, and Dean grinned back.

“Well,” Dean said when their breaths had calmed down, “that went well. Good talk.”

“Good talk,” Castiel agreed.

“Charlie is never going to forgive us,” Dean said, but he didn’t sound very heartbroken over that.

“Never,” Castiel agreed, nuzzling closer to Dean and curling his arm around Dean. Letting out a happy sigh, Dean tucked his nose to the crook of Castiel’s neck, and even if Castiel’s arm would get tired soon in that position, he couldn’t care less at that moment.

“Cas?” Dean asked then. Castiel hummed in response, and Dean went on to say, “Not that you wouldn’t have noticed, but, I mean…What I meant when I said I smell different is, I actually presented as Delta.”

“Okay,” Castiel said, keeping his voice neutral. In truth, Castiel had to rack his brain to even know what that meant. He’d only ever encountered the term in his biology textbook, in a very little text box categorizing all the different cases of people who didn’t present as Alpha, Beta or Omega – but something in between.

“Well, um, the first thing you need to know about that is, I chose to be an Omega. And the second thing is that my Alpha dad really wanted an Alpha son.” There was bitterness in the words. “So, despite…this…” Dean gestured at himself.

“Despite wearing Alpha clothing,” Castiel said, a bit hesitant.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded against Castiel’s skin. “My dad, he…” Dean paused. “I guess he never knew what to do with me. He always wanted an Alpha son, so he treated me like I would present as one, and when that didn’t happen… I guess he thought…” Dean paused again; Castiel was about to tell Dean to stop, that he didn’t want to force Dean to talk about this, but then Dean continued, “I guess he thought that I _wanted_ to identify as an Alpha, and that treating me like one would make me one. So he kept forcing me into wearing Alpha clothing, hide my scent, stuff like that. Some of it stuck.”

“But you didn’t identify as one,” Castiel said.

“No,” Dean muttered. “Never. I mean, my presentation was a special case, but I never thought I was anything else than an Omega. And I don’t want to be.”

“And yet, your father forced you to—”

“Yeah, well,” Dean said, cutting Castiel neatly off. Castiel shut his mouth, since Dean clearly didn’t want to hear how hurtful his father’s actions had been. Dean knew that already. “And maybe dad forced me to wear clothes like this, but I got used to it. I’m probably not gonna change that.”

“Okay,” Castiel said instead.

“That’s…it?” Dean asked, surprised. He sat up, and Castiel blinked, his body following Dean before Castiel had even made up his mind about sitting up as well.

Maybe there was something to this ‘scent recognizing scent’ thing Dean had talked about. Castiel’s body, at least, was already strangely tuned into Dean’s.

“Um. Was there something else you wanted me to say?”

“Well, uh…” Dean looked at Castiel, as if he couldn’t believe the conversation had been this easy. “It doesn’t…bother you?”

“Dean, I thought I made it already clear that I like you. Very much,” he added, making Dean flush a little with that. “I would’ve liked you if you were an Alpha, or Beta, or whatever.” He gave a small smile. “It’s not like I can smell the difference.”

“Yeah, but…It’s not just the smell, Cas. I’m not…a typical Omega.”

“And I’m not a typical Alpha,” Castiel said, with a shrug.

“Cas, you don’t get it. I mean it, it’s not just the knot. I can’t… I can’t get pregnant,” Dean said, heavily. “I don’t have a uterus.”

“Dean, it’s perfectly fine. We can adopt if we want to.”

“Cas, you—that’s not all. I mean, I don’t even go into, into heat,” Dean continued, blushing a little. “No uterus, no heat. So I can’t share your rut. So excuse me for sometimes feeling like I’m not even half of an Omega.”

Castiel could only smile. “You look whole to me, Dean.”

“But—”

“Don’t you see, Dean? We’re perfect together.” Castiel took his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m an Alpha who can’t smell. You’re an Omega who cannot have babies.” He kissed Dean’s hand, grinning a little. “You don’t go into heat, and I don’t get ruts.” Dean blinked at that. “Societal pariahs, both of us. Barely able to function.”

Dean couldn’t help a little laugh.

“You really don’t get ruts?”

“Well, to misquote you, no smell, no ruts.”

“Huh.” Dean’s smile dimmed a bit. “You’re really okay being with a Delta? I mean, not that, I…”

“Dean, if you say you’re an Omega, then you’re an Omega.” He squeezed Dean’s hand, and smiled when Dean squeezed back. “Uterus or no uterus. Heat or no heat.”

“Okay,” Dean said. “And it’s the same for me. You’re my Alpha.” He pressed a kiss to Castiel’s nose. “Rut or no rut.”

It was such a small, innocent gesture compared to what they’d been doing just moments ago, but Castiel couldn’t help but flush, warmth settling all over his body. It felt right.

“Maybe that’s a good thing, you know,” Dean said then. “Can you imagine how potent you’d smell if you were in a rut? Distracting all the Omegas in campus. There would be riots. Lectures would cease.”

“No, Dean, I _really_ can’t imagine that,” Castiel said, and then he wiped the annoyingly perfect grin from Dean’s face with a kiss. Dean threw his arms around Castiel and pulled him down on top of him.

They were going to buy Charlie new sheets after this, anyway. Probably a new mattress. Or best make it a new bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this far, thank you - hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Need to drop me a line? I'm on tumblr, [here](https://helakkas.tumblr.com) or [here](https://justkeeponwriting.tumblr.com).


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